


The Fire Of A Ruined Realm

by Measured



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Community: longfic_bingo, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 07:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: When a rift happens among Lucina's group, Laurent and Noire are caught alone by Risen, and are forced to take shelter in a ruined fort. Through the desolation of that night, a bond grows between them.





	The Fire Of A Ruined Realm

**Author's Note:**

> HC_bingo: forced to face fear. / longfic_Bingo: Zombie apocalypse. Pre-game, This starts in the middle of the drama CD 3, you can read translations [here](https://fe-according-to-japan.tumblr.com/tagged/fe13-drama-cd-3) for context. I would highly recommend reading them anyways as it was an interesting look into what drove many events in this story to happen. Essentially I'd been working on this a while and this helped center the story.
> 
> I'd say it also counts as mildly canon divergence (only in a few scenes, though.) Other than that, it assumes the same precanon as in game.
> 
> Inspired by one part of Laurent's talks with his mother: _"I spent my time trying to find you. You were such a perfectionist, you somehow managed to die without leaving a corpse. So I clung to the silly hope that maybe you had not died at all. For all I know, my "time travel" was all some ruse of yours. ...I wouldn't put it past you."_
> 
> Also inspired by this: [this prompt](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/97719120396/imagine-person-a-has-to-go-and-fight-a-tough).
> 
> Via supports and Noire's glowing tile conversations, it shows that Noire has magical abilities seemingly no matter what her class is and has apparently even picked up the knack of hexes despite Tharja specifically not teaching her. __  
> "I've learned a few hexes of my own, Mother. Want to take me on?" (train) for example.
> 
> Yes, technically Laurent does come in at level ten in his chapter canonically. But when you take into account that he had a really large headstart, I personally thought it'd make more sense for him to be a bit higher level. Or you can just assume he grew several levels by beating all the brigand reinforcements and hit a master seal practically in his first level like Laurent's I've had in the past, lol.
> 
> Laurent's specific backstory mentioned here is actually from Future Past, specifically the Ricken talks.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *

Noire's hands wrapped around her Talisman with a desperate grace. Laurent's words echoed in her mind. _This is how far our fellowship goes._

It couldn't be the end. Not when they'd come so far. Noire could accept that they were doomed, that it was hopeless, but that even the ever steadfast Laurent would abandon them in their more dire hour was something she couldn't accept.

Lucina was the hero, the princess, the future Exalt, and the only hope they had at winning this war. But, Laurent was the one who kept them together. Maybe everyone else didn't realize just how much he worked to keep them alive. Lucina led the charge, but Laurent formed the plans. He stayed up deep into the night taking the first watch, gleaning food from wherever he could, and mending the few weapons left in their realm.

Lucina led them with peerless swordsmanship, and unfailing bravery. Severa and Brady had been true friends, sharp-tongued and with even sharper wits. She'd hidden behind debris with Yarne, and fascinated Cynthia enough to almost label her a possible nemesis.

The thought of those bonds suddenly being torn asunder was unbearable. It was unthinkable for him to storm out like this, unthinkable for their alliance to disintegrate with _Laurent_ of all people losing his temper. He always kept his head in battle, and yet when they needed it the most, he'd lost control.

She'd cried at the fight, but all her tears had dried, and now turned to a dull rage throbbing in her. She clutched her talisman tight, and rose up.

 _How dare he, how dare he..._ Her thoughts and the thoughts of her other self mingled, coalescence until she was one body, with two minds of rage and vengeance in unity.

"Noire?" Severa called after her. But she threw open the door. She could see him in the distance, already quite a bit ahead. So utterly reckless, when Risen were everywhere. Behind the broken rubble, even more coming from every battle littered with dead bodies. It was an impossible battle. The more villages and cities the Risen destroyed, the more they killed, the more their ranks filled.

He stopped, and let out a sigh. He turned at the sound of her approach.

His voice softened slightly as he said her name. "Noire? What are you doing here? ....You came for me?"

She couldn't quite put into words what Laurent was to her. A comrade? Certainly. A friend? Well, wasn't the entire ragged band technically friends? At least kind of? Though some were certainly closer than others.

Laurent was always working, it seemed. Researching the tattered remains of books, piecing together the lore in hopes he could find a way to save everyone, and watching over every single member of their army. Or tactics to offer them some semblance of a chance. He worked tirelessly, often deep into the night. In her sleepless nights, she'd always have to tread quietly, lest he look up from his book and scold her for not resting.

Still, even if he could be prone to sternness to any foolish person who his carefully ordered plans, he'd always been kind to her. Kind even when he would've been sharp-tongued to another. She never let herself linger on why.

But in this moment, she it wasn't the weird, undefinable feeling she never tried to figure out, the way she felt almost like smiling when she saw him, even if she'd had a horrible day, or

Now, she felt only rage.

She gripped his collar tight as she yanked him down to her level, and let out a snarl.

" _Blood and thunder!_ You are a most hypocritical coward! You speak of being a better man, and yet a weakling like yourself abandons the group in their darkest hour!"

Laurent blushed deeper than she'd ever seen. "Th-that is...."

"There is no excuse for your conduct! Submit to me and return to the group IMMEDIATELY!"

He gasped, his blush deeper than ever. "Noire..."

Her other side fell away, and she was left with Laurent's collar held tight in her grip, and he was much closer than she thought. Close enough to kiss. She instantly let go and took a step back.

"I-I'm sorry--!"

He cleared his throat, and stepped away. He let out a soft sigh. His cheeks were flushed. "No...you should never apologize for such a fiery, intense outburst. I deserved that....wonderful tongue lashing."

"You have to go back!" she said desperately. "Right away, before..."

Laurent shook his head. "No, I cannot face them in this moment. I must regain my composure."

"What if there is no later?" Noire said barely above a whisper.

Before he could respond, a roar rose up from behind them. _Risen._ Just what she'd been afraid of.

Noire let out a cry, and reached for her bow. If she'd been a second later, he would've been forced to face them alone.

"Go back to the others. I will hold them off," Laurent said.

Noire gasped. "You can't face them yourself!"

"Noire, this is my folly, and mine alone. I will accept whatever consequences come of my misguided choices by my lonesome. I would not....want you harmed."

"No--! Nobody can stay behind! We have to stay together if we want to survive! Without anyone one, you'll--You'll die! You'll die alone, surrounded by Risen, just like.."

_Just like my mother._

There was no more time for argument, as each path was blocked by Risen.

"Stay close to me, Noire," Laurent said. "Even if it is selfish, I must admit that I am gladdened that you joined me, and that I did not have to face death alone."

"Nobody else is going to die today," Noire said between gritted teeth.

"Strange to see you hopeful," he said.

For a minute, she lost herself. Gripped the talisman and felt like she was wreathed in black flames.

"BECAUSE THE ONLY DEATH WILL BE THE DEATH I RAIN UPON THESE FILTHY BEASTS!"

Arrows rained down upon the Risen. She laughed in triumph as one by one was shot down. But all too soon, her weaker self was back, and the fear that came with it came.

Laurent's face flushed. "Oh.... Your other side is always such an incredible and wonderful, strong ally in battle," he said.

"A shame she can't stay longer," Noire muttered under her breath. Because the minute that side was gone, her hands would tremble so hard that she could barely hold her bow.

And she had even more reasons to be pessimistic. They were alone: a mage and an archer. Neither could take many blows. And Laurent couldn't even use a heal staff, yet. Not that they had any spare. Brady had the only remaining one.

The rubble was filled with the screams of the undead and the dying. Those that they had not been able to save, and the filthy undead creatures coming closer. Noire shuddered as she pulled back the string of the bow, and tried to steady herself. The thread was so thin, it was bound to snap soon. Not surprising, considering that it was made of brittle sticks and loose string, something dropped by a Risen three days ago, and already on the point of breaking. Materials were scarce, with no armories to buy from any longer. They had to make due, or die defenseless and screaming at the hands of the Risen.

She hadn't the time to check her bow last night, too busy with waking nightmares, the crackling camp fire and the waiting, waiting, waiting for inevitable death. The Risen would come in, and if they didn't, the nightmares would come. This was their life, a haze of starvation and barely surviving.

And now, due to her distraction and sleeplessness, she was facing down these creatures with a substandard bow.

Most mages kept to the back, but Laurent was strong enough, cautious enough, that she'd even seen him make the kind of frontal assaults that the Dark Knights could manage. He was quick, and most of all, he was confident in a way she both admired and envied.

He never had to conjure up a monster self to survive. Even his anger was carefully controlled. A slow burn of fury, of kept wits and reposte.

She heard a cry, but it was of war, not pain. Laurent had gotten a strike, the Risen had disintegrated into darkness under the blades of winds he conjured up. No matter how many they felled, more would come. Until eventually they died and the whole world fell.

Mostly she felt tired. Even a victory was hardly a victory. Tomorrow would have more Risen, more people they were too late to save. At night the clawing fear and memory of her mother's death would keep her from sleep. Each day she got a little weaker. Soon she'd be nothing but a liability to them.

One day, they would start to fall. It was only a matter of time. And she knew deep down that she'd be first. She clutched her talisman, with a shriek which startled Laurent.

She wouldn't die today, even if she had to conjure up monsters and ghosts to survive a little longer.

She fought by his side, taking arrows from her quill as fast as she could manage. Her other side kept the fear from causing her to curl inward, hug her knees and wait for inevitable death. Flames burst about them, all summoned by Laurent. He must've gleaned another tome from a Risen, for usually he used Wind tomes for their tactical advantages against flighted enemies.

_"I tire of this."_

Through his force of will, the flames consumed the creatures, and cremating their ragged remains to ashes and dust.

Noire panted. Her bow wouldn't hold up for many more battles. Soon she'd be stranded, useless and and without a weapon. A lamb for the slaughter.

If only they could make it back to the rest of them. But more reinforcements came running, dashing that hope before she'd even spoken it aloud.

Of course...nothing good every happened. Hope was useless, yet somewhere deep she kept hoping.

But, these weaker Risen only parted to reveal a far stronger commander.

A tall mass of armor, wreathed in shadows took thundering steps towards them. Though her hands trembled,  
she raised her bow and aimed at the approaching Risen General. The arrow soared, and then bounced harmlessly off of the massive red and brown breastplate. The second shot missed entirely. Even though she clung to the talisman until her hands hurt, her other side wouldn't be summoned. Fear had overwhelmed her fury, leaving her completely helpless.

She came crashing down to the realization that this was far more than they could handle.

"I-it's too much! We need to flee, Laurent!"

But more Risen circled behind them, cutting off their escape route.

"Then...this is it, the end...Mother...father...I'll be seeing you soon."

She'd just wanted a happy, normal life. She wouldn't ask for too much. Just for her parents to be alive, her mother kinder. Simple things she would never have.

"I'm sorry I couldn't change anything, Laurent. At least...I won't be dying alone."

"No one is dying tonight," Laurent said, with such fierce determination that a part of her wanted to believe him, even though she knew it was impossible.

This Risen was far more powerful than the foot soldiers they'd faced earlier. There was so little chance they could even make a dent in that thick armor. Was this how her mother felt, as the pages of her tome stuck together with blood, and the Risen overwhelmed her? She hadn't seen father die, but he'd always said he'd go out in the bloodiest way possible.

If only a spark, a force of power could rise in her and be enough. If she were to die here, then at least she could make one last stand. At least make her life worth something before she joined her parents.

The general advanced, clanking armor that she could now see wasn't simply red, but splattered with blood. Glowing eyes showed beyond the helmet. It lifted its arm, too close for her to counterattack. She shielded herself with her buckler, her eyes half covered. She knew the feeling of pain intimately. The sting of a curse that burned under her skin, the break of a gash, the deeper cut of loneliness, and the memories of losing her mother.

The blow never came. She could see a storm between the spikes of her guard. The white-hot light overtook her vision, a burst of flames. For several moments it was too dazzling for her to see anything beyond an olive-brown cloak. She realized then that he stood before her. Even if the attack had landed past Laurent's magic, it never would've reached her at all.

And there was nothing but smoke and ash of the former Risen general.

"Laurent, you--you really took that whole general down? In _one hit?_ "

He brushed ash from his olive robes. "They may be be nigh impervious to physical attacks--at least those which were not formulated specifically to cut at the chinks of their armor--but their armor cannot withstand magic," Laurent said.

Even the Risen behind the general had been charred by the intensity of his magic.

"As a mage, my mood regulates the power of my magic. Of course, I always try to keep an even temperament when working magic, to not hurt my allies. However, there is a certain pleasure in releasing every last emotion into magic. The depth of my anger provided a surprising boost. If mother were here, she would surely wish to study this..."

She held tight to her bow. His grasp on magic had really grown. And Lucina was an extremely talented swordswoman. Meanwhile, Noire took on the bow because she was too mediocre a student that her mother wouldn't even teach her a magic. She'd only managed through following her example.

"It's been a trying day..."

"Indeed, though that is not merely the cause," he said.

Laurent bent to pick over the remains of the Risen for any usable weapons. When he turned his attention to her, the weapon seemed even more flimsy and useless under his stern gaze.

"Th–thank you... I might not have survived an attack like that," she said.

"Indeed, you wouldn't have," Laurent said. There was an edge to his voice as he studied her, noting the gash across her arm where another Risen had caught her off-guard. She'd scarcely felt the blow, given that she'd been driven into a frenzy of bloodlust by her other side. Brady was nowhere near to offer healing, but at least the wound wasn't so deep that it would cause her to be unable to draw the string upon her bow.

She'd have to wrap it, though. The Risen were drawn to the scent of blood.

He wasn't sufficiently skilled in staves to use them yet, but Laurent was never unprepared. Despite their rarity, Laurent pulled out a vulnerary. The brown pot was smudged with blood and dust. Even Laurent couldn't keep all his things as orderly as he wished in these conditions.

He held the salve out to her. She couldn't tell if his expression was disapproving or concerned. Maybe a mix of both, it was Laurent, after all. These days a crease had formed at the bridge of his nose from so many desperate plans.

"Oh no, those are precious--I couldn't," Noire said.

"Your life is precious, Noire," Laurent said.

She shook her head. "I--I'll be fine. We need to just hurry and get back to Brady..."

"Then I will apply it myself," he said evenly.

He removed his gloves, and poured the vulnerary into his palm. He had long, surprisingly graceful fingers, and hands that were quite a big larger than hers. He took her arm firmly, but gently and spread the salve across her wound. The vulnernary was cool, and yet tingled as the wound healed. Even more so, she was surprised by the heat of his skin. It'd been so long since anyone had touched her. Mother had grown entirely wrapped up in her revenge, until the biting coldness of a curse was the closest thing she could feel to a pat on the head, or a parent's embrace. And many of the others were afraid of her other side, and always took care about her, lest she explode. His fingertips grazed her forearm all the way to the back of her wrist. She shuddered suddenly, not from cold.

As much as she knew she couldn't, like the pit of endless anger, there was an ache of greedy wanting inside her. She desperately desired to have the happy life, her parents returned, to wake from this awful nightmare the world had turned into. And she wanted the comfort his touch gave her, she wanted him to even stay there, and what? As if the battlefield was any place for a pair of lovers, and they weren't that, and never would be.

It was a foolish thought to even hold, really. That she could be anything to him but a fellow comrade, and not even a particularly close one.

She suddenly drew her arm away. She could still feel the heat tingling from the touch. If she got any more greedy, traitorous thoughts, her other self would come in and surely draw more Risen.

"My apologies; did I hurt you? I tried to be as gentle as I could. However, given the circumstances, it would sting no matter what I did."

Noire held her hand in her palm. The chaotic, swirling thoughts were nearing a scream. "No...I feel better now, thank you..."

"Do be careful. And remember to check your bow before next battle. The last battle surely must've put undue strain upon it," Laurent said.

Noire lowered her gaze to her healed arm, where seconds before his fingers had been. "You reminded me once before," she said softly.

"Then I will have to remind you again," Laurent said. He smiled, and reached into his satchel. From it, he pulled out a much sturdier bow.

"I gleaned this off of an earlier Risen earlier today. I had meant to give it to you earlier, but things were rather...chaotic."

"Thank you..." Noire said. She looked to her bow, not his face. He was probably looking down on her, on all the ways she did everything wrong. Her walk towards him had been so determined then, when her other side had taken over. But now her legs were as shaky as a newborn fawn's.

_You couldn't finish a single curse, even though it could've saved your mother. You were too afraid to even shoot them down. You're a failure, you're weak, you're worthless..._

She had to steady her breath, because the sheer thought that he would pity her could bring out her other side immediately. She pushed forward, and drowned out the constant voices that berated her.

"We should return--"

Before she could continue, she heard the familiar grunting and moans of the Risen drawing near. There were so many of them. More than arrows she had in her quiver.

Laurent let out a disgusted sigh. "Always more of these wretches. Always another mess to be cleaned up."

Through the corner of her eye, Noire caught sight of a faster Risen, sneaking through the shadows.

"Laurent, watch out!" He whirled around.

The Risen struck him. She let out a shriek, and couldn't bear to look. Not again, not again. He'd taken the blow for her, just like her mother had. The blow ripped a gash through his robes. His glasses crunched under the feet of the Risen assassin. He drew back, horrified and numb with shock. Few artisans were left, and even fewer supplies.

"Laurent!"

She pulled back the string of her bow. The Risen dodged her first strike. She was quickly running out of arrows. _It wasn't enough, it wasn't enough..._

She shuddered as the Risen withdrew its blade and stepped closer. She'd seen so many people hacked to pieces before her eyes, helpless in her weakness to save them. The Risen would feast upon the leftover pieces of flesh, blood dripping from their gaping maw. She knew all too intimately the smell of burnt bodies, cut flesh, and death.

She couldn't let Laurent become one of them. The wandering once-dead, the fetid beasts that had devoured their land all serving the fell dragon, Grima.

His wind tome had fallen from his satchel grip in the attack. Not that he could see it, without his glasses.

She tightened her grip on her talisman and quickly bent down and grabbed the tome. Noire felt herself shift, the other her came out with a shriek and frenzied laughter. The air bent to her will, as she took the tatters of his book. The wind obeyed her, swirling about her fingers as she sent the waves out. Cutting and stinging, tearing the Risen apart. Arms separated from its body, the force left pieces of armor scattered about. It was a great howl, a clatter and storm at her fingertips. She laughed with the force and fury of it all, the power she could wield at her beck and call.

"All of you will repent and despair! Perish now, for your time is at hand!"

It wasn't enough, it wasn't enough. The power was sweet, addictive. None of these Risen could withstand the wind she commanded. One by one, they fell, swirled to dust. It was only when there was nothing left but the cremated ashes of the Risen that she came back to herself.

"Ah..."

He lifted up the remains of his glasses with a sigh.

"Can...can you read without them?" Noire said.

"I'm afraid not. Like many others in my family, I am almost entirely blind without my lenses," he said.

"S-sorry. This is my..."

"The only one who should be saying apologies is me. I acted truly recklessly, and without your warning, I would have surely perished, and joined my father. I do believe you saved my life--both our lives, in fact."

She offered her hand. "Um, here, I'll help you up. Can you see me?"

"Somewhat, now that you're closer."

He shakily took her hand. She lingered a moment too long, and only let go with reluctance. She pushed back the weakness inside her that made her want to slip her fingers between his again, and hold on. As if a simple touch could cure all her problems.

(Even if it felt good. Even if the touch had been a spark, a shock. Even if she wanted more.)

Even in the dire situation, even more so at the loss of his lenses, there was a lightness to his expression.

Still, throughout it all, his expression brightened. "But this--Fascinating, truly fascinating. I've never seen magic from someone an archer before. I truly wish I could've seen this better, and watched you unleash such fury upon them. I only saw fits and blurs. Is this a new class from Plegia that has not been documented yet? I must admit, I always found it odd that with two parents skilled in magic, you never took up the practice," he said.

"Ah, I know how to do magic, but I was never that good. Mother would never let me learn how to curse," Noire said.

"Not good? Back there you were a goddess of vengeance, even without my full capabilities. You truly sell your skills short. Why, with proper training, you have the potential to even outdo my own mother," he said.

If he was impressed, that meant he only had thought the worst of her. She bit her lip. Of course he thought the worst of her. Laurent was always so logical and calm, even in the heat of battle. Whereas all she wanted to do was run away until she could sleep off the nightmare she'd stumbled into.

"I picked up magic from mother...when he was alive, father always said I was a natural," her voice grew quiet as she spoke. "He was always so good at cursing, even better than mother. I don't know why I can't. I'm just defective..."

"That and..." She glanced away, and cleared her throat. "Simply reading tomes and being around magic makes me nervous now. So I took up the bow, because it didn't remind me of when mother..." She couldn't say the words. Instead she broke off.

"Do not be so hard on yourself. Mother once documented a savant who spent his entire years seemingly incapable of magic, but once day past his thirtieth year, he was perusing a tome, and called forth flames. He nearly burnt down the library, in fact."

"Burnt down a library? Oh no!"

"Yes, that would be quite tragic. The paper had footnotes noting that the fire was quelled soon enough to prevent any loss of life or loss of information, though it smelled of smoke for weeks after. You see, you could simply be a late bloomer," Laurent said.

"Maybe," Noire said. Though her mind offered much more cynical insights on the matter.

Laurent frowned and stared up towards the sky.

"It'll be night soon. We should seek shelter as soon as possible."

The Risen were even more active at night. The first drops of rain came gently on her cheek.

"If our clothes become soaked, we will surely succumb to hypothermia soon," Laurent said.

And this time, they wouldn't have stronger guards. Just them, a mage and an archer, against thousands of monsters, and the long, cold night. If the Risen didn't get them, the cold would.

"We could go back--" Noire said hopefully.

"There is no time. More Risen come from that direction, even now."

And she could hear their groans, their shambling closer, closer.

They couldn't keep fighting endlessly, especially not with the downpour of rain that had begun.

"There's a fort nearby, m-maybe it hasn't fallen completely..."

"It is our only hope," he said flatly. And she could tell he didn't trust even that possibility.

He took her arm. She guided him through the dark, pitted landscape. The clouds hadn't dispersed in weeks. No stars or moon to guide her, or to read the fortunes from flowers.

But she wasn't alone in the dark.

*

The stench of blood and unburied bodies greeted them and the sounds of Risen behind them. She and Laurent threw the bolt of the door down, and pushed as much rubble against the doors as they could manage. She could only hope that the thick wooden doors would have enough strength to last the night.

She couldn't tell if it was still twilight or night had fully come. In truth, she could scarcely tell day from night any longer. The hours were an escalating shade of gray on gray, as if the smoke from the capitol's burning were caught in the skies forevermore. Nightmares haunted her, sleeping or waking.

Most buildings were burnt out husks. It was rare that they could find any form of shelter other than a few gaping walls and scattered stones.

She tried not to think of what happened to the people who had once lived here. Her mind already had seen enough horrors to fill in the gaps. Even as she tried to rest, she rarely would be able to fall asleep. Nightmares had slipped from her dreams

The slats between the stone walls let too much wind through. Even more worrying, they would be little defense if any Risen caught their scent. She pushed the sole flimsy chair up against the door, and turned the table on its side. It might keep the smaller Risen at bay, but the heavier armored one would plow through the thin wood. Books were so rare, and yet this even had them. A whole bookcase of them, and Laurent couldn't even read them. It was such a cruel twist of fate, it made her ache with sadness.

Even though this fort wasn't entirely secure, Noire wanted to curl up under the tattered covers and find some rest. Her body ached for sleep, but the moment her eyes closed she would surely fall into another nightmare. Then she would wake into another nightmare, until every moment of her existence was darkness.

No torches were lit, no grateful survivors greeted them. The only thing that broke the stillness was the occasional night sounds of the Risen in the distance.

"If my glasses were still intact, I could bring forth enough flames to light a torch," Laurent said.

"It would draw them, though...the Risen."

"True. We must simply feel our way through, and hope it will be enough.

Noire's hand trembled as she ran it across the rough, cold stones.

_I have to be strong...for him...for both of us._

She bit back a scream as her hands tangled in something. Seconds passed and she realized it was nothing but a cobweb. She gasped for breath. It was too much. The dark, the cold, the impending death. If she'd known what a grueling and pointless slog this would be, all to not have the one remaining stone they needed, she would've wished to be felled by the same Risen that killed her mother.

"Noire?"

Laurent reached for her through the dark. His hand rested on her shoulder.

"I-It's just a...something touched my hand. But it was nothing...important."

"Are you hurt?"

Noire cast her gaze downwards. "No...just surprised."

"Then let us continue. There must still be some usable beds further in."

"Mmm."

Rubble scattered beneath her feet. She felt herself begin to fall and yet he caught ahold of her arm.

"Careful now.," he said softly.

She couldn't take this any longer.

"Laurent, I need your tome...oh, right... I'll have to search through it myself."

"Take whatever you need," he said.

She began to dig through his satchel. Her fingers came across a talisman. "You like these as well?"

"Oh, I have been meaning to return that to you. You dropped it in the last battle. The truth is, I wanted to study it first. The creation of talismans is a fascinating subject. I've always wanted to create them myself."

She'd found the talisman deep in the ruins of the city and kept it. She pushed the thought out of her mind that it hadn't been very much help for its earlier owner. She would take whatever protection she could get.

"Maybe I could teach you sometime," she said.

And it was such a foolish thing, she almost regretted it the minute it left her lips. They'd die here. The war was unwinnable. Even more so now that Laurent was rendered nigh useless in battle. She'd never get a chance to show him, and it'd only join her litany of other things that she'd never gotten to have in this short, pathetic life of hers.

"Keep that talisman a little longer. Maybe it will bring you luck. We certainly need it."

She pulled out the fire tome and held it to her chest. She remembered the way her mother would open her palm and a flame would come forth as she strode into dark laboratories. Unearthly blue flames would erupt from her palm, but never burn her skin.

Noire had tried so many times to emulate her mother, and only ended up with burns and ashes. If put just a fraction too much power within this, the entire fort could ignite, and them as well. However, it'd grown dark enough that she couldn't even see her way forward.

All she needed was a little glimmer, an ember. Enough to light their way but not draw attention.

 _No pressure in that,_ she thought.

Laurent had so effortlessly weakened his power when he'd broken up the fight. She steadied her breath and began the incantation, and focused small. A spark. The tiniest flame imaginable. But it was enough to slightly illuminate the stone walls about them.

"Extraordinary! You have a definite talent for magic. One day, when we have time, we must preform magic experiments together. You would be an excellent study partner."

She flushed with pleasure. Laurent did not give compliments carelessly. Still, that dark little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that if he actually ever saw how clumsy she could be, he would rescind those kind words, and look at her with scorn and disappointment.

"I...I get scared too easily. It wouldn't work. This and before is just a fluke."

"We need not work dark magic, and could focus solely upon small elemental magical experiments, such as you did there. Using magic for functional, as opposed to more destructive means. Would that be more acceptable?"

"Maybe," she said.  
  
The magelight in her palm was wan, and unlikely to draw any but the nearest Risen. It barely had as much illumination as a firefly. But it was enough for her to step over the debris that filled the halls. Finally, she came to a row of barracks.

"We should rest as much as possible until dawn. Then we can fully explore the fort for survivors and possible food before we return. I know sleep is difficult for you, however I hope you can still try. To push on will only tire us unduly. There are some rooms nearby, I will take the one nearest. Choose whichever you find fit for your needs."

"No!" Noire shrieked. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "S-sorry. I know noise draws them. I just--please....don't..."

At the camp, she'd had several of the other girls nearby. Severa would get up in the night and help walk her to the bathroom. The thought of having nothing but the darkness and screams of the Risen and screams of her memory was torturous.

His brow furrowed. "Noire? What troubles you?"

"P-please don't leave me alone. Not when there's Risen nearby and we're all separated. I just couldn't bear it. The long night, the nightmares, both living and in my mind...I can't take it, I can't..."

"You wish to...share rooms?"

Noire nodded desperately, only to remember that he couldn't see well enough to understand.

"I-I'll find one with a bigger bed."

"A... b-bigger bed?" Laurent sputtered. Her cheeks suddenly flushed she she realized just how it sounded. Like she was trying to desperately seduce him. Though it'd never happened among their group--at least that she knew of--Inigo had related once, how the desperation of being near death sometimes brought out 'amorous situations.' Lucina had soundly scolded him for such a jape, but the words had always stuck in Noire's mind.

"O-Or a room with multiple beds. Please, I can't face the darkness and the Risen alone!"

"Ah...you're right. That would be much safer. I was thinking only of propriety, and privacy. It blinded my good sense."

Several of the barracks beds had been broken down for firewood. The remaining bed frames looked like scattered bones among a graveyard. Three remained. She helped him to the middle bed. The bed nearest to the wall would be her own. When given a chance, Noire always kept her back to the wall.

He removed his outer olive-green cloak and held it to her.

"...Laurent, won't you you...cold...?"

"I will be fine. Please, take it. You are Plegian, after all... You must be unused to such a chill."

Her grip tightened about the cloak, and she placed it across her shoulders. She should refuse. She should say _Oh no, I couldn't._ But the weight and warmth of it there, the scent of him was comforting.

She shifted. The wool blankets were moth-eaten. But at least they provided some warmth. Still, the thought that Laurent would be cold, that he had given up even his cloak for her ate away at her. She suddenly rose up, and got out of bed.

"What is the matter? Did you hear something?"

"No."

With all her remaining strength, Noire pushed the flimsy beds together. It scraped loudly against the floor, enough to make her cringe. However, she heard no sound of Risen, so sheclimbed up with him. Noire had to come close to pull the cloak, and the moth-eaten blankets around them both, but she finally she felt warmth.

"I...I didn't want you to be cold. The thought of you freezing to death, I couldn't bear it. So....um...stay close and be safe, okay?"

She was interrupted by screams outside the doors of the fort. Screams of the damned, and the sound of the Risen clawing at the stones grated at her. At least these were the small, the footsoldiers who even she could strike down with an arrow. None were flighted, but there would be reinforcements.

There were always reinforcements. This horror was unending. No matter how much they fought more Risen were summoned forth.

"Shh..." he said softly.

He gently pulled her even closer, and wrapped his arms about her. She mustn't cry out, not when the Risen were near. Even if she bit her tongue until it bled to keep in her screams, she had to remain as silent as possible. She buried her face against him, her fists balled his robes in her fists and she clung on as tightly as if rotted arms were dragging her this instant. She barely dared to breathe, to think, lest they hear her. All the while, he gently stroked her hair. Her breaths came out in shudders. And it wasn't just the fear. She hadn't taken into account the intensity of a touch, his touch.

It was so strange. She was terrified, on the edge of death, strung out, and yet when he touched her she felt--something. Something good. And Noire hadn't felt anything like this in a long time, maybe forever. Maybe she'd only dreamed so desperately to be cared about, comforted, even loved.

None of these things were hers, but in this moment she could take what comfort he had offered and cling tight, even if it wouldn't last, even if it meant nothing more than good will towards a comrade.

She heard those groans of the Risen so near. Were they outside the walls, or roaming the halls? Had she drawn them in with her magelight or moving the beds?

She clung to him until she thought the material of his robes would rip. She was on the brink of screaming, losing herself in sheer terror.

"I can't...I can't take this any more...They're always hunting us, always ready to rip the flesh from our bones--"

"Please just be strong a little longer," Laurent said.

"I can't. I'm on the brink of screaming and screaming, and I think I would welcome death if it came. Then I'd at least be reunited with my parents. But, I don't want you to die in the process so--please stop me. Whatever you can do, please--"

She felt him gently place his gloved hand over her mouth. The Risen were so loud, so near.

"They'd want you to remain alive...and so do I," Laurent said softly. "All of us would be filled with grief to lose another. Especially you. The thought of losing you...I can barely even withstand the thought of it."

He was so close to her, that she could feel his lips brush against her forehead as he spoke softly. Like a kiss, almost. The closest she'd had, and would probably ever have. "Shh, Noire. It is okay. Please remain calm. They'll leave soon. We must simply stay still."

She shut her eyes tight, even though she couldn't see even the outline of his body in the dark. She'd seen her mother torn apart. She couldn't bear to see another--to see _Laurent_ brutally killed by Risen.

It wasn't okay, nothing was okay, these were just stupid words to keep her quiet. But, it worked. His voice was so calming. He was so self-assured, so composed, and he withstood so much without even breaking that she wanted to believe him.

At least the fear drowned out the gaping wanting inside her. Now that she'd tasted this much comfort, this much nearness, she wanted more. The thought that she could have even a moment's happiness in a day close to him, that if she couldn't bring back her parents, maybe, just maybe, they could win the war and have a future together.

But none of that could be hers, least of all him. She bit her lip until she tasted blood. Now she had not simply the past and present to haunt her every waking and dreaming moment, but the future she would never, and could never have.

It was only when the sounds of the Risen faded that he dared speak again.

"Noire, are you all right? I did not mean to hurt you," he said.

"No, I asked you to. You were just keeping me--us--safe. Had you not, I think I would've lost control and drawn them all here. So...thank you for that.

"I did what I could. We must rest for tomorrow."

"I'm so exhausted, but I don't think I could sleep," Noire said.

"Have you considered any manner of sleep aids?" Laurent said in a low voice. "I know of certain roots and herbs that could be made into a tincture which could be quite effective. Perhaps they kept some in stock, or we will find some within the next rubble we investigate."

"It...wouldn't help," Noire said, barely above a whisper. "...I remember the screams, and the singing. The Plegians...they all went to the table to be devoured. Mothers put their children there upon the table to be ripped apart, eaten alive, all while singing that awful song. I remember how mother devoted herself to revenge after father died. She barely even looked at me anymore. She was just so consumed by that dark magic and...how she defended me that last time."

Noire forced her eyes shut, but she still saw the horrors there, always there. She couldn't escape them or ever fall into a dreamless sleep. Not even that mercy was given her.

"A little root isn't going to take that away."

"Actually, perhaps there is a tincture that would help that. I remember reading about an extremely rare herb which induced kinds of amnesia. There was a traveler who endured much hardship and his personality completely changed upon ingesting it. He became lighthearted and forgot his entire life prior. Of course, that would be a rather drastic measure."

"I don't think I ever could," she said. "I would lose mother and father entirely then. I'd rather be miserable constantly than forget those I love."

"It is possible that story was a parable. When reading ancient texts, it can be difficult to tell the exact intent of the authors. And indeed, that quandary is similar to our own."

"You were one of the ones who weren't ready to leave immediately," Noire said softly. "Is that why?"

He shifted slightly. "It is an untested theory. Logic dictates that if we save this timeline, we may prevent our very birth, and dissipate along with the timeline. Even more, should any of our family still be still living, they would surely be marked for death on our leaving...and destroyed with this timeline," Laurent said.

Noire gasped. "That's...awful..."

He nodded. "Every possibility must be considered."

"I....the thought of going is as terrifying as staying. I'm scared all the time and I can't escape it. The nightmares always follow me! Will this other world truly be better, or could it be even worse? Will we die immediately? Could death even be worse than a life like this?"

A sob escaped her lips, even though she tried so hard to fight it back. The last person she wanted to cry in front of was Laurent. Of the entire group, he was so emotionally strong. So many of them were always on the brink of breaking apart, but Laurent always held them together. He was so smart, so steadfast and always guided them with his tactical knowledge, and even more he seemed so _good_ at everything. Even when things were at their worst, Laurent could help flip them aside.

Sometimes, in quieter moments she almost felt...calm around him. Even when she shouldn't. His voice was gentle, and left her almost soothed despite it all. Sometimes he still would go on, and draw out her other side, yet he'd never treated her differently in the face of her fury.

(And many more she would not even speak aloud, or allow herself to linger upon. Quite handsome, strangely gentle towards her, even in her weakest moments. If she lingered too long, she'd get wanting for what she could never have. Because there was no way he could ever share such a sentiment about her.)

That was why it had been so jarring to see him lose his temper earlier. If Laurent was pushed that far, then truly there was no hope left for them.

Of course, he must already think her utterly useless, only kept because they were desperate for any living soldier to fight this war. She couldn't even bear to remain in a room alone, and she'd almost drawn the Risen near in her panic.

"And...I couldn't face the thought of you dying--o-of any of us dying."

His gloved her hair again, in soft, gentle strokes. "I have not perished today, and I intend to continue on living for as long as physically possible. Simply because something is difficult does not make it impossible. This war can be won."

She could hear every breath, the faint and steady beating of his heart. She'd never been this close to anyone. Her chest was against him, his arms about her.

"Ah... Noire, could you perhaps move? Your elbow is jutting into my side," he said.

"Sorry...."

He drew back, far more than warranted a simple elbow poke.

He let out a soft groan. "That is, as much as I wish to offer comfort and calm you, I would not wish to seem...ahem, untoward. After all, you are a very beautiful woman....and I am trying to be respectful...considering where we are."

Noire blinked back her tears. _"What?"_

"This is surprising?"

"Um...Laurent you can't even see right now. You aren't exactly the best judge of anything, let alone beauty right now," she said.

"I have known you for quite some time and always thought such. Why is this such a hard thing to accept?"

"I'm not fashionable like Severa, or strong like Kjelle or cheerful like Cynthia or brave like Lucina. Even Inigo wouldn't flirt with me when he saw me erupt."

Inigo had protected her once, given her a flirty smile, the sort he gave all the other girls, until her other side surfaced. Then he'd kept away, just like many others had. Now he drew back whenever they were in the same room together, like she was a monster cloaked in flesh.

"Then... you have feelings for him?" Laurent said. His voice was oddly flat. She'd never thought who Inigo flirted with was any concern of Laurent. Really, the only thing that seemed to bother Laurent was what a waste of time Inigo's excursions were.

"Oh no, I wanted to reject him too. Everyone else had a chance, but he never even looked at me. Probably because her--the other me--scared him away. It looked so fun, but now I'll never get to."

"His loss. Your fury is a sight to behold."

He'd always spoken well of her other side, even when she lost control of herself. Maybe he was just being polite, and trying to save her feelings. And for that, she was kind of thankful. Often he was too busy taking care of everyone, everything, but he had always been gentle towards her when they talked.

"I know it's foolish, when the entire world is collapsing, but I wanted to be seen as a woman, to be seen as beautiful. It's so selfish. I'm embarrassed to have even said it. But it's true."

"No, it isn't foolish at all. If anything, it would be biological imperative, and simply human nature. And the seeking of forming intimate bonds with a mate is an overwhelmingly strong instinct. I too...felt such longings. I pushed them down, and my feelings. The war must be focused upon. Any distraction could equal death and certain doom for everyone."

Noire felt a sense of warmth in her chest. Laurent thought she was beautiful? Both sides of her? How could someone so emotionally strong as him find anything good about her? Her, who couldn't even go to the bathroom without help because the darkness frightened her so much. Her, who couldn't even sleep without being chased by constant nightmares, and broke out sobbing in the weapons rooms.

Laurent always held them together, and she'd never seen him cry, even when things got rough. He might not be the most physically strong of them, but his mental and emotional strength was something she both envied and admired in turn.

"Maybe I'm a mess, and selfish, because even if the world was dying, I wanted someone to love me, to find me beautiful...even if it meant someone else got hurt, if I got to be happy a while before I died, then....then...."

She let out a sob. Every time she thought she was cried out to numbness, more horrific things pushed her to her very limits. How pathetic, how embarrassing, to break down in front of him again and again. He must think her so awful, so weak. He probably only allowed her to stay close because he pitied her.

At least she had that.

He first reached out and brushed his gloved hand against her cheek to dry her tears. Then, he pulled her even closer. It was just as stunning and breathless a feeling as when his hands brushed against her arm rubbed the vulnerary into her wound.

This time, her mind wasn't as clouded by the threat of danger. She could feel the full force of his touch. She nuzzled her face against his palm.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I'm being weak again, but--Just--please let me stay like this a little longer."

She had to be careful. She could grow addicted to this feeling. The constant edge of worry dissipating slightly in his arms, the soft, comforting words and gentle touches. And she had no right to claim him as hers. A thought which if she lingered on, would surely summon her other side in a rage at the unjustness of it all.

That she couldn't even have a bit of comfort without it being torn away, that in the end nothing good could ever come to her in her life.

"There is no need for any apology. No Risen can make it through these walls. If they could have they would have already. The fact that it has held means it was strong enough," Laurent said softly.

She'd smelled the stench of death in this fort when they first came in. It hadn't been strong enough for them. Though maybe they'd died from their wounds when they'd taken shelter here.

"You must get whatever rest you can manage. Tomorrow we will have to push ourselves hard to catch up with the others. One day, I'll find a herb to help you find a way to fight back those nightmares. I'll form a seal, or talisman, or whatever it takes. Until then, know that you do not fight them alone. I will be here."

As much as Noire knew none of this could ever happen, not in this ruined world, she wanted to believe for once. His fingers lingered softly at her back. Stroking gently. She felt so warm against him. Even if it was selfish, she wanted to stay in his arms. The horrors of the night--and her mind--seemed more distant with someone else to fight them back.

Was that what love was like?

"I know I'm imposing and asking so much, but--Can I...stay like this? Here with you?"

"Of course. The truth is, I would not want to leave your side either."

"Thank you," she said softly. "And, um. Sorry for poking you before."

"No, I shouldn't have said anything. I will consider it an exercise in self-control."

All for accidentally poking him? It didn't really make sense. She decided to not press the matter. He fell silent. Then it was just his steady breathing. He fell asleep far easier than her. She lay close enough to his chest that she could hear each sound of life. Each heartbeat, each breath. It was surprisingly soothing, yet another comfort she'd never know after this night.

With that bittersweet taste of reality, she shifted a little closer. At least she would have this moment, where even beyond the constant terror of their situation, and the horrors of her past that weighed heavily on her mind, at least she didn't face them alone.

*

Usually, Laurent was up the earliest of them all, except for Noire who slept only in fitful moments, and spent dawn groggily stumbling out from whatever shelter they had found. Noire would often see him, bustling about and checking weapons and making use of what little food supplies they had left.

Her memories went back to those times. However dire they were, she was almost nostalgic for them. They'd had the belief that they might be able to preform the Awakening with four stones, maybe, just maybe, it'd work. They would take shifts to guard against the Risen. Noire often took the first one by default, given how hard it was for sleep to come.

He'd always been gentle and kind towards her, she thought now. Often she would find things pressed into her palm. A cup of tea from herbs gleaned from the battlefield, a warm bit of food when she had guard duty, and so many other times before now coalesced in her mind. Now they were punctuated with the new revelation that he found her beautiful.

Still, she could hardly bear to hope that this gentleness, and even his own admission meant anything. Obviously, he meant she was _objectively_ beautiful. It didn't mean he had any feelings for her.

He was so close. She must have shifted during the night to face him. If she had nightmares, she didn't remember waking to them.

Strange how she was in the most danger she'd possibly ever been, and yet, she had never felt this...calm? Even well rested? Maybe she was just so exhausted she'd fallen into another stage of numbness, and even this was an illusion of being composed, and only another stage of panic.

But a part of her wanted to think that through it all, she'd survived and found something like peace in these morning moments.

His arms were around her, and if she moved up just a little, she could kiss him awake. it would be so easy for their lips to meet... What even would that feel like? She'd never kissed anyone, or had a love. In fact, she could kiss him awake, like something out of a fairy tale.

Noire blushed. What was she even thinking? What kind of utter fever dream was this? He wasn't hers and couldn't ever be. The thought that Laurent would really want a girl as unstable and broken as herself was _laughable_. These thoughts were utter foolishness that would break her into pieces. It would only make watching him marry someone else that much harder.

She wrenched the blanket away and leapt up.

He let out a groan and pushed himself up. "Are we being attacked? Has the door been breached?"

"Ah...no."

"A nightmare, then," he said.

It was easier to lie than admit what had caused such a start. She nodded, then remembered that he couldn't see. "Something like that."

His auburn hair was a bit tousled. He reached to the side of the bed, and then let out a sigh.

"Oh, right. In my waking moments, I had forgotten."

She'd never seen Laurent disheveled and sleepy before. Even if she slept all night, he always came out clean and ready at dawn to begin preparations for their next battle. No surprise; Laurent was always extremely fastidious about hygiene and everything being in its place, even on a battlefield. She smiled a little. If they'd lived in another world, one not caught in constant war, and she wasn't so utterly broken, then maybe...just maybe...they could be something. What would those courting even do? Have picnics and exchange endless flowers to each other until marriage? She only knew bits of the world, grasped from Grima's clutches.

"The dreams are not real and cannot harm you. For the moment, we are safe," Laurent said. His voice was so steady, so calm.

"Most of my nightmares are m-memories..."

His eyes closed. "...I saw my father die. I still remember the way the sword pushed through his body, his death cry..." he shuddered. "It never goes away."

"I'm sorry you... Does that mean you have nightmares too?"

"I believe we all do. In a ruined world such as we live in, it is a mere reflection of the horrors we see every day. It is simply something we must endure."

She got up and wrapped the blanket about her. She wasn't sure if it was a comfort that Laurent felt the same pain she did, or another twist of the knife that he dealt with his trauma far better than she did and ever would.

The darkness of the halls past the door loomed, but she forced herself to step out into it.

"Um, Laurent... I was thinking, maybe we could find supplies here before we go back."

"Yes, truly, that is an astute observation, and a sound hypothesis. I was going to suggest as much," Laurent said.

She smiled softly. It was rare for Laurent to give such compliments, especially on things such as tactics.

Even though he wouldn't be much help against the enemies, the thought of going alone made her want to pull the covers tighter around her.

They were exhausted, barely recovered from their injuries, and now Laurent couldn't even see without his lenses. Even if she knew he couldn't defend her, at least it could push the constant panic back.

"Um...Could you please come with me? I don't want to out alone...or leave you alone here in case a Risen breaks through the walls and...." She couldn't bear to finish the sentence.

"You'll have to guide me, I'm afraid. I cannot see much more than a blur of gray."

He held out his hand, and she slowly reached out and took it.

Step by step, they went deeper into the fort. She had to tread slowly, lest he fall over the constant rubble of broken rocks. In the light of day, she could see that the condition of the roof was worse than she thought. They walked down that long hall, over bones and rocks, to rooms which could contain anything. More wreckage, even Risen.

And yet, her mind kept wandering back to him. She'd never held hands with a boy before. Though she couldn't feel skin to skin contact through there gloves, and it wasn't _really_ holding hands. Not like a girl and a boy in love, holding onto each other simply for the thrill of it.

She blushed, and reminded herself again that it wasn't as if it were romantic or anything like that. They were just surviving. Yes, he found her attractive, but that didn't mean he _liked_ her. It was Laurent; he obviously meant in the abstract. Like...a lovely building that one admired the structure of, or a beautiful sunset. Still, she was grateful for what little she had.

"Listen first," Laurent said.

He leaned her ear to the door, and heard nothing. With a deep breath, Noire pushed open the door.

There was no carnage within the kitchen, at least none of humans. Dust covered the walls and floor. Husks of dead insects, cobwebs crunched beneath her boots.

The food in the pantry was largely rotted or moth-eaten. However, some dried meat seemed somewhat stale, but still good enough to eat. The pots in the kitchen were rusted through, with a large hole in the roof where the rains had flowed through, and left everything covered with mold or water damaged. That too, left a nagging worry in her mind. If any flighted enemies found that, they could get swarmed.

She gathered up what could be gleaned from the kitchen in her satchel, and led Laurent out.

The stench reached her before she even opened the next door. Her hand trembled as she rested it against the handle. She knew that there would be no sound, yet still she waited for her heart to still.

Finally, she opened the door. Bodies were strewn about in the barracks. The whole left wall of the armory had crumbled, and then been walled off and abandoned. Noire could hear their screams as surely as if the ghosts had surrounded her in that moment.

She clung tighter to his hand.

"What did you see? Describe it to me."

"B-bodies. More bodies. So many of them. It's so awful. You're so lucky that you can't see this. Oh, it's horrible..."

His grip tightened on her hand. He reached up with his other hand, somewhat unsteady. Soon she realized it was to brush tears from her eyes. He couldn't even see, and he already knew she was about ready to start sobbing. No wonder. She was always on the brink of tears, and a cloud of sadness always hung about her. (A cloud of old curses, to be exact.)

"Laurent... If you know any prayers for Naga, you should say them. We can't survive much longer like this. I don't know any. My family is Plegian. They weren't Grimleal, but they didn't worship Naga either..."

He drew his hand away. In that moment he did not meet her gaze, not that it would've done him any good, without his glasses.

"Noire, you should leave this place. Find the others."

"And you'll come too?" she said hopefully.

"...My mother always said that a theory should be rigorously studied at all costs. It was not my intention to pull you into my hopeless quest, but I've valued your company beyond words can say. But even then, without my lenses, I will be useless."

"What are you even saying, Laurent? M-maybe I can find something in the fort. Then you can fight again."

"The chances of finding lenses that would work for me are slim. Not all lenses are the same, there are many different strengths, and finding one that does not fit will simply cause more harm."

Rage began to burst up within her She clutched at her talisman. "FOOLISH MORTAL! If you wish to die so badly, die upon my arrow!"

Laurent gaped, and was left utterly speechless. He blushed deeply, and even shuddered at her outburst. Oh, he must surely hate her now. And she'd exploded at him so many times now.

She just couldn't win. She couldn't control her other side and it would destroy every last bond, until all of them would want nothing more for her to walk towards the Risen, and join her family.

But Laurent didn't look scared. Instead, he blushed. Just the sight of him like that immediately broke her free of her other side.

"Oh! I lost control in that moment--I'm so sorry."

"N-no, you were right to say that. I lost my head in that moment. Ahem, we should keep searching the premises," Laurent said.

"Yes, we should," Noire said softly.

Noire glanced away as they walked on. She wished his hand was still in hers. The dark, cavernous halls would seem so much safer then.

*

Noire was on constant alert as she further explored the fort. Without his glasses, she had to lead Laurent along. But even that company offered her some comfort.

"What is our location now?"

"We're nearing another door. This side of the fort seems less damaged."

She listened at the door, and then when she heard no groans of the Risen, she opened up.

"It seems to be a library. Or what's left of it."

"A shame. There has been so much knowledge lost within this world."

The books were water-damaged, stained with ash, and as she reached out for one of the covers, silverfish rushed away in all directions. Noire let out a shriek and drew her hand back.

"Noire? Are you all right?"

"There was just a bug--I-it startled me."

Laurent crinkled his nose in disgust. "The insects that prey upon books are truly the worst."

"Even more than bloodsuckers?" Noire said.

"Those are annoying, but those that destroy knowledge are unforgivably cruel."

She pulled down the first one and flipped through. Page after page was filled with tight, indiscernible squiggles like nothing she had ever seen.

"Are the books magical tomes, or anything else of use?" Laurent said.

"Um....I can't read this script," she said.

"Understandable. Most aren't trained in ancient translations. Of course, mother started me before I was walking."

"Of course," Noire said.

She set the book aside and began to pull down another. He touched the side of the bookcase with just a faint discernible longing. It was so rare to find any knowledge which hadn't been ransacked and destroyed by the Risen. They'd burnt the libraries, both private and public, devoured the scholars, and anyone else who wasn't strong enough to fight back the endless hordes conjured up from the deep.

"It's in some language I don't know...I can't read it. Sorry..." Noire said.

"If I had a proper codex, perhaps I could."

But he couldn't not without his glasses.

"Laurent...Does it hurt? ….Without your glasses?"

"It is fi...."

"Don't lie to me, don't you _dare_ lie to me," Noire said. A rough growl, a hint of the beast within her. She didn't turn back, didn't let him see her expression. In a second, she'd reclaimed what the monster inside her had almost taken over.

"It causes headaches, often severe. Mother theorized that she accelerated the downfall of her poor vision with her endless studies. Perhaps I've done the same. ...However, it is no matter. It's hardly believable that I will live much longer."

"Don't say such things!"

"It is only the logical truth."

One thing she missed about the group was that she never had to worry about long silences. Cynthia and Owain would always fill them, chattering about heroes and destiny. She could stay wrapped up in a blanket by the fire, and never have to add stories.

"But I wanted you to live. Ahem...all of you."

Oh...of course she wouldn't think it was just her.

"We'll...make it through this," Noire said. Though it came out flat, given she barely believed the words she said.

There was a satchel left upon underneath the table. Noire bent and dragged it out. As she lifted it up, she found the bag surprisingly heavy. Inside were some still-intact magic tomes. Even more, at the very bottom was a spare pair of glasses. They were thicker, less oval than Laurent's former pair, and reddish in shade.

"Will these work?"

She lifted them onto Laurent's face. It took standing on tip-toe, because he was quite tall.

He blinked, and she noticed that his gaze lingered on her lips for a moment.

"Yes, they will do."

"What an fortunate find. Perhaps Naga has heard our prayers after all."

He glanced around the library, with renewed vigor. No longer was he so resigned as he had been earlier. His eyes widened as he bent down to inspect the book.

"This...Where did you find these?"

"Right here. There's tomes, too."

Laurent fell silent. He leaned down and picked up the bag solemnly. His expression grew stony as he stared at the academic papers in a language Noire couldn't understand, and a simple gold ring.

"Laurent, can you read it?"

"Yes..." he said softly. "It's my mother's."

He closed the bag and put it over his shoulder.

"And the ring?"

"That....I have been searching the continent for any trace of her. This is the first sign pointing to where she could have gone."

An ache filled her. She knew all too well what it was to lose her parents. She reached out and touched his arm.

"Laurent... I'm so sorry."

"This... This is not definitive proof. There is no body, and without a body there is no evidence that she is truly gone..." Laurent said softly to himself. He shook his head "Until I can conclude that my hypothesis that my mother lived is completely without merit, I will not abandon this world."

He touched his hat, the last remainder of his mother.

"I could not bear to abandon her to certain death. I must go on searching. To that end, you should meet up with the others, so I may go on alone. Surely, she must be nearby. She wouldn't have carelessly abandoned her belongings."

Noire let out a cry as he turned, and began to walk away from the rest of the survivors. They had already disappeared in another time and life. To leave would mean he was left only to the ravaging Risen. If they didn't take him, lack of food would.

She'd seen her mother turn skeletal, barely eating in her desire to thwart death and gain her revenge. And then it was just them and all the people they couldn't save. Without the rest of the force, they could barely keep themselves alive, let alone others.

"Laurent, what are you saying?! This is foolishness!"

He continued on, an answer more to himself. She'd never seen quite this expression in him before. He was lost in his own desperate thoughts. "Yes, these were her most precious possessions, but she could have fled to safety. As long as it is a distinct possibility, I cannot give up. I cannot abandon my quest, until I've proved completely that my theory is wrong."

A sudden spike or rage filled her. For such an intelligent man, Laurent could be horribly stubborn and foolish. As if Miriel could flee without her glasses. Laurent here could barely even walk straight without his. She'd had to hold tight on to him, just to keep guide him through these halls.

She gripped his tunic tight and yanked him closer to her. "Foolish coward! Your stupidity is most unwelcome, and shall be rectified immediately by my bow! The facts are plain, and yet you swerve closer to death every day with this blind hope!" Accept death, before I personally introduce you to its biting scythe!"

Just as suddenly as she came, the dark side of her personality left.

"Ah....I'm sorry... I...I know it hurts. I lost my parents, too. Every single day I remember how they died. Even though my mother was cold, and often tested her c-curses on me, I miss her so much. I'd do anything to have her and father back. I know it will hurt even more when we see the parents in that world. Ones that won't recognize us, and won't want us around, but what other choice is there?! Just leaving yourself to die? M-maybe we can do it. We can change the world. Then maybe this world will be reset and our parents..."

It was such a blind hope. She almost expected him to immediately list all the holes in such a theory. Just a little ways before, she couldn't have faced it. But as she held onto his hand she felt a little stronger. Like she might be able to do it.

His face was flushed. She'd gone and embarrassed him again. She kept doing that over and over. She couldn't stop destroying whatever had been growing between them. (Nothing, nothing, her mind reminded her. He thought of her as nothing but a comrade in arms. Anything more would be utterly fooling herself.)

"I'm really sorry my other side said such awful things. I can't control her. Sometimes she just comes out..."

"No, don't be. Your other side is quite wise and astute, and in such a glorious dark queen, regal and magnificent."

Noire blushed at this. "What?"

"That is--both sides of you are correct. Perhaps that is our only hope...I was too blinded by foolish hopes that I cast it aside. And I brought you into this."

"No, I chose this myself. I couldn't bear the thought of you dying. Laurent, you--you hold hold the entire army together."

There was so much more she could say, but it got caught up inside her. Her other side felt close to surfacing.

"I...wouldn't want anyone to die. Especially you."

"You're starting to hope, Noire," Laurent said.

She glanced away. "M-maybe a little."

"If you can be strong enough to take that step, and hope, then I too must forge on. I have allowed my mind to become clouded by irritation and grief and endangered my most precious comrades because of that. I must amend that immediately. I can only hope the rest of them will be as forgiving of me as you have been."

"We've all been through so much. I think they'd accept your apology and we'd all move on forward," Noire said.

Laurent smiled. "I admire your strength, Noire," he said.

"My _strength?_ What are you talking about? I've done nothing but break down in tears over and over and lash out at you this entire time," Noire said incredulously.

He smiled, and it was that same steadfast, soft way that made her feel in ways she couldn't speak, couldn't admit.

"Courage isn't the lack of fear, it's continuing on even though the fear. And every single day you do that, even though the battles take such a toll on you. You inspire me to strive harder."

She clung to her bow a bit tighter, and glanced away. It didn't hide the blush, though. "You're the strong one. You always work so hard in this war. Even though it's a near impossible fight, you always do so much to support us all and keep us alive. A lot of them don't notice just how much you do for us, but I do."

"Thank you, Noire. Your kind words mean so much to me. I only hope I can one day reach the level you think of me."

There was a noise--the sound of falling debris. She bit her lip to stifle a cry. Had the Risen broken through, even then? He gripped her hand tight to steady her.

But instead, a little brown sparrow flitted by. Animals were becoming scarce, due to the Risen. But some had still survived, despite it all.

He pushed up his new glasses with one hand. "We should keep moving."

"Ah, yes," Noire said.

*

Before they left the fort, they gleaned what they could carry of the last of the food stores, and the least rusted weapons. Dawn had come, almost colorless, only a lighter gray. Since the dragon had come to rule and destroy this land, the sun had become duller, the sunsets and sunrises had disappeared in the eternal haze of smoke that lingered over the skies.

When they pushed the doors open, a few stray, weak Risen shambled forth.

Laurent's magic felled one in a single hit. Black flames consumed it, until nothing but groans were left.

She took aim and fired. Her arrows stuck in the axe-wielding Risen's neck, but it kept coming closer. A burst of flame made it ignite into seeping darkness.

"Th-thank you."

"Were you injured?"

His gaze was actually kind of intense. She had to look away. "No, I'm fine."

"Then let us be off. Perhaps we can catch the rest of the group yet."

They returned back through the destroyed city, towards the ruined buildings. This tine only bones and silence greeted them. Still, they kept an ever wary watch for the groans of approaching Risen. The building Lucina's group had taken shelter in was left empty, without even a bone or flower petal left. Laurent ruminated in the rubble.

There was no mistaking it, for Owain had drawn a 'hero's brand' upon the door in soot before they took refuge there. The rain hadn't managed to wash it away completely.

Her other side was so close to springing free. She'd thought at least they'd cared enough to try and find them. Of course, the fate of the world was at hand.

"Fools...moving on without us as if we were worthless...." It came out as a low snarl. Anymore irritation and she'd lose control completely.  
  
He rested his palm on her shoulder. "I saw signs of them. Footprints I certainly recognized. They looked for us, but were forced to take shelter somewhere else, surely."

Or they'd been wiped out entirely. Noire didn't dare speak this, lest it be true.

She steadied her breath and finally got ahold of herself.

"Sorry, she was almost ready to take over."

"As much as it pains me to say, as much as seeing her would gladden me, her battle cry would bring Risen near. Of course, she'd probably fell them one by one, in such a wonderful show of power. Regardless, we must keep moving on," Laurent said.

"W-what now? We don't have a trained bird to send out. They'd never see smoke signals...there's too many fires to ever tell. We don't know where they are."

"However, we know where they will go. We must simply keep moving on towards Mount Prism, and hope to meet them there," Laurent said.

They would have to fight so many more Risen alone, and that was if Lucina hadn't already left their time, and left them to their gruesome fate.

Noire glanced away. _Lucina wouldn't do that...right?_

"I know Lucina. As much as it would tear her asunder to leave us behind, the world is upon her shoulders. The faster we can meet up with them again, the less tears she will shed."

Noire nodded, unable to say a word. Coming back to an empty room had withered away what little hope she had. Still, she followed after him.

*

They gleaned supplies from the wreckage of towns. Noire saw more bodies than she ever could imagine. There were so many they'd failed to save. She felt in a daze most of the time. But Laurent was at her side, leading her on. Each night she slept near, the same moth-eaten blankets over the two of them.

As they neared Mount Prism, the Risen attacks grew less and less. Not even Grima had defiled this place, where Naga's power still reigned.

She had taken the blanket and laid it over her shoulders, it prevented the chafing from where her bow was slung as they headed back. Talking would bring the Risen, or any living brigands closer, so there was nothing but soft gestures, as Laurent led them with a compass piece.

Would there still be enough magic left? Had Naga's power grown too weak? Had they ruined their chance at ever escaping this world? These thoughts swirled in Noire's head as they approached the shining heart of Naga's power.

He didn't talk much. Too much sound brought the Risen near. Deep down, she thought it wasn't just that---she just wasn't strong, interesting or good enough to talk to. It gnawed at her at night, the ghost of her regrets. Her mother hadn't talked to her, either. Deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was her fault as well.

Maybe if she'd been a little stronger, a little older, she could've saved father. But she couldn't change time, couldn't bring them back.

_Not good enough, not strong enough, not good enough, never good enough._

If she could call curses from deep within her, then maybe she would be able to hold her own. Then they would look on her and be proud like no one ever had been. Not her mother, not even the few people she could call friends.

Too lost in her own thoughts, Noire didn't see the hole--an old burrow of some long-gone woodland creature. Noire stumbled, and let out shriek. Her bow clattered away.

"Noire!"

He helped her up. His hand lingered on hers a long moment. Too long a moment. He blushed, and glanced away.

"Sorry, my foot got caught--"

"Please be careful. Did you harm your ankle?"

"No, you caught me. The only thing wounded is my pride, and I didn't have much of that to begin with," Noire said.

"Good. We need to keep moving if we are to catch up with the others," Laurent said.

She nodded, and followed on towards what could be their salvation or their demise.

*

Colorful and fragrant flowers still bloomed here, where Naga resided. Though there was no time to tarry and take in their scent. Makeshift, secondhand tents were pitched in the meadows. Two familiar guards came into view. There were several areas where the flowers had been plucked entirely, a sure sign that Cynthia had been near. Not simply for her flower fortunes, but the crowns she'd make them, and petals she'd gather for her dramatic entrances.

Yarne let out a shriek, and hid behind his smaller companion. He had quite a few blooms braided into his thick brown fur. "It's the Risen! They're going to eat me!"

Cynthia burst into a smile as she caught sight of them. "That's not the Risen. It's Laurent and Noire! Hey, everyone! Laurent and Noire are back!"

Out from poorly-pitched tents came the rest of their ragged army. The last defense against the fell dragon.

"Thanks to Noire's quick thinking, and wonderfully sharp tongue knocking some sense into me, we were able to fight off the Risen and survive," Laurent said.

He glanced towards Noire with such a tender smile that Noire could only glance away with a blush.

"I'm so glad," Lucina said. "I thought--" She let out a long breath. "I thought I'd been too late to save someone else. I already had to mourn my father and mother. I could not bear to mourn both of you as well."

"I apologize for my recklessness. I can only hope that I can eventually make amends and earn my forgiveness," Laurent said.

Lucina smiled. "Don't be foolish. We've all been pushed to our very limits. I know I can speak for everyone when I say that all we feel is intense relief that you have returned. And you too, Noire."

Inigo laughed, a bit awkwardly. "I deserved to have some sense knocked into me. I just didn't think it would be _Laurent_ cuffing me."

"You're a pain, but it'd be annoying to have to take over all the chores you do for us," Severa said.

"I can translate Severa-ese, that means she doesn't want you to die and is glad to see you back! And I don't either! By the way, could you use your Wind to help me make a dramatic battle entrance?" Cynthia grinned big.

A crease appeared at the bridge of Laurent's nose. "That would be a waste of precious tomes. Something we cannot afford in our current desperate circumstances."

"Aww, but it would be so great! If the next place we go has a ton of tomes, could we try it then? I bet it would technically even be practicing your magic!"

"Hmm. Perhaps if the next world has them in abundance, it could be worth the practice," Laurent conceded.

"Sacred Stones! Your return was foretold by the sages of yore!"

"That's Owainese for he always believed you two would make it, and missed you too," Cynthia said.

Brady barely held back tears. "I thought you two were goners. And _we'd_ be goners without Laurent's tactics. And I'd miss bein' alone on the sick bed, too."

Gerome stood in the corner, his spear in hand. "Just because death's scythe missed you today is meaningless."

Nah looked up from the book she'd gleaned somewhere. "I told them you wouldn't go out that easily. Especially not Noire. With the way she goes into blind rages, she could fell an entire army," Nah said.

Noire drew back at that.

"Yes, it's quite delightful," Laurent said.

"That's not the term I'd use," Nah said dryly.

"Maybe you're both tougher than I thought," Kjelle said.

"As much as I hate to cut these greetings short, we are running out of time to act. Let me fill you in...We tried the Awakening. However, without all the jewels, we could not manage to complete the ritual. So, we no have a choice. This can't continue,"

"But to give up?" Kjelle said, her voice full of disdain.

"There's hardly a world left to save," Lucina said, her voice full of pain. "We've tried and..."

"And this remains the only means to win this war," Laurent finished for her.

And there was little left to save. The armies of Grima were relentless, unending. Even if they destroyed them every hour of the day, more would flow out through the night. They were pushed far beyond what they could take. A simple watch wouldn't do when the Risen were even more active at night.

Noire was used to not sleeping, due to her constant nightmares, but the rest of them were worn down to nothing.

And so, they gave up. Ash and dust and stone, the world was doomed, unsalvagable, but Naga insisted that it wasn't the end. Sometimes, Noire wondered if she were too tainted, if her hands were too dirty for her prayers to be heard. Some of her relatives worshiped the dark dragon, or so her mother had implied, back when she actually talked, or acknowledged her existence. Before she was lost to a grief so vast that it enveloped her entire life. Until there was room for nothing else, just darkness.

But through the clouds was a tiny bit of light.

*

The light of Naga was soft, a gentle power that kept the entire mountain full of beauty.  
She could feel the strength of magic, a magic far different than the curses her mother worked. It wasn't like stepping into shadows that clung to you like cobwebs, but like being bathed in sunlight.

Lucina had gone ahead towards the light solemnly, her hair braided to her neck, with Gerome's mask upon her face. Even now the others were giving up on this land, with hope that they could ever salvage this barren wasteland of a world.

Severa left defiantly, a toss of her pigtails. "Don't act like I'm already dead, and don't go get yourself killed. Are you coming already, Noire?"

"I will..."

Brady nodded towards her, a quiver in his lower lip. "See ya on the other side, but hopefully not in the sick bay, or a coffin."

Gerome left without a word, not even a goodbye. His second mask hid any hint of any reluctance or grief he might have had. Marauding hordes would tear them both into pieces, until not even magic could piece them back together.

Laurent was next. But as the others disappeared, he remained silent.

Kjelle pushed ahead. She glanced back towards them, with a mutter of _don't fall behind._

Yarne left. It was only the fear of the unknown which kept him longer in this place. Owain left with an oath, a careless smile, as if he could take on entire armies. Cynthia left with pigtails bouncing, full of hope.

"Laurent, we need to go..." Noire said.

He said nothing, and touched to his hat. For a moment, she wondered if he had truly accepted his mother's death, or he would continue searching.

Even more, she couldn't stop the terror of the unknown. Would it hurt? Would she feel her body being pulled apart into coldness and nothingness? She could lie to herself and say it was just benevolence and mercy that kept here, but it wasn't. The bones of her mother, the lingering curses carved under her skin, all worked together to leave her paralyzed inside. She couldn't make those last words, couldn't leave.

 _Laurent, son of Miriel, your heart was clouded. Did you find what you sought?_ Naga said. Her voice echoed through the room, until Noire could feel it in her very bones.

He closed his eyes, and shook his head. "No... I can only hope that after I go to this time, I can return and find indelible truth."

Even now, he refused to accept his mother's demise. The thought that he would come here, and risk his life left her filled with dread and rising rage. If she didn't take a few quick breaths, the ceremony would be interrupted by a battle cry of _Blood and Thunder!_

Laurent touched his hat, but said nothing more. A wordless goodbye to the graveyard and wreckage of the world they'd known. So many had died in this hopeless war.

The cave shone with a deeper light. She reached for his hand, flushed and anxious. She let her hand fall back down to her side. She had no right to ask him of anything any longer. There was no guarantee she'd even see him--any of them--on the other side, but she didn't want to say goodbye like this.

Not like this.

"Noire?"

"I can do it...I can keep going..."

He took her hand. "We'll go this far together."

Her grip tightened.

"Noire?"

"B-before we go, I need you to do a favor for me. I need you to keep this safe for me until we meet again."

With her other hand, she reached down and took a talisman she'd kept in her quiver. She always had many on hand.

"You wanted to study them, right? You have to tell me what you find," Noire said.

He held tight to her hand as they walked into the light. A faint heat of contact, his gloved fingers entwined in her own. They feigned courage, or at least he did. She clung to him, suspicious of even this magic called divine.

"I still need to return your first one, but I'll gladly keep this safe for you. Thank you, Noire. I hope to meet you again."

"No, don't hope! _Promise!_ Promise you'll give that back to me one day! _Promise_ we'll meet again!"

_Promise you'll come back to me._

He nodded then.

"Though logically nothing is sure, and we may not even survive the trip, I will strive with everything within me to reach you again and return this to you. May the world we go to be a better one," Laurent said.

They stepped into the light. Noire felt a rise of panic when her hand was let go. But that panic dissipated as she floated. She was bathed in light and nothingness. The last of the nightmare world disappeared behind her. But she carried the nightmares in her mind, never to be forgotten.

*

The air was cold. She came-to, coughing and clutching to herself. None of the others were around her. She looked up into a stranger's face, harsh and lean.

"All alone are you, lamb? Off searching for dear old mum? How very sweet. But the world's a dangerous place, my dear, full of wolves waitin' to snatch you up."

She drew away. "Um...Th-thank you for the warning, sir, b-but..."

He reached for her arm. His hand were rough, and covered with callouses. "That's no warning, lamb. I'm a wolf, and you've been snatched! Now come quietly. Scars tend to lower the sales price.”

Noire let out a scream. Her nightmare had simply shifted to a new, different nightmare. Even the world she came to was filled with ugliness. Evil still lived in this land, even if it wasn't overtaken with risen.

*

She found a bow upon the floor of her cell. The other side took over for longer than she had ever known. She watched as she shot down pegasus riders from the air, and griffin riders alike. She laughed and screamed her battle cry as they closed in.

In truth, that side took over so completely that she only came awake when she found herself face to face with the king that had died in their time...and a younger version of her mother.  
  
Only when she saw a woman she recognized as Tharja, her mother, did the other side disappear. The woman was younger, less marked by time and pain. But Noire would recognize that aura of darkness anywhere.

Their reunion was hardly ideal, but Noire couldn't hope for more.

*

The winds swept the across the sands. The weeks since then felt more like years, or seconds. Sometimes it felt impossibly long, other times she fully expected to wake up in the middle of the gray, savaged world. So many of the other children of heroes seemed happier here, but Noire still felt somewhat off. The past version of her mother talked to, and noticed her, but was filled with constant shadows and bitterness. She was suspicious of every overture, caught with a cynicism which Noire saw reflected in herself, only in grayer shades.

At least there were more guards, and less Risen. It didn't make the battles easier, but at least every day wasn't quite the dance with death as it had been in the other, ruined timeline.

And they still hadn't encountered Laurent. That was a pressing fear to her, even though she felt gladness as each member of their ragged army joined with Prince Chrom's force.

Noire let out a soft sigh. For someone with Plegian blood, she sure couldn't stand the heat and sand. She wanted nothing more than to find shade beneath these strange trees, and snipe enemies from there.

But she couldn't let that feeling overwhelm her. Even though she was terrified, she'd push herself out to battle over and over until the fell dragon Grima's plan was destroyed. She needed to be strong. Laurent had complimented her strength, and she held to the memories of those words, like a talisman.

Suddenly, she noticed the harsh glare of the sun had dissipated. Shade? There was no clouds, no eclipse, just...

She whirled around to avoid a sure attack,only to see a face almost familiar, yet changed during the time. He seemed taller, somehow. Even the angles of his face seemed different, more mature. Even more handsome. Had he really grown that much, even in just a few months?

"Laurent?! You--You're alive!"

He smiled. "It's been a while, Noire. Too long, truth be told."

Noire nearly stumbled, dizzy with relief. "I thought you were a brigand at first. Had I not realized, I would've shot you."

"My apologies. I did not mean to startle you. I simply came to check upon your well being. I caught sight of you across the battlefield. You'd been staring off into the distance for some time. I feared you'd suffered heat stroke."

"Sorry. I was trying to regain my wits." She laughed sheepishly.

"Yes, it is best to not rush heedlessly into the battlefield. That's a wise move."

More like a cowardly move, but Noire accepted the compliment with a slight, nervous laugh.

"So, you finally found her. Your mother, that is..." Noire said.

Laurent smiled wryly.

"A version of her, at least. She doesn't quite believe my story, and is researching its veracity. Which is no surprise, truth be told. Though we've just met again, we've had fascinating discussions about the possibilities of the outrealms, and complexities of time travel," Laurent said.

It sounded like it went better than Noire's reunion with her mother, at least.

"Yes, before I forget."

He opened up the well-worn talisman, that had been hidden away in his glove.

"I must thank you, it kept me alive this long."

"Oh...actually, please keep that a little longer."

_Because I want you to be safe....always...._

His lips curved into a soft smile. "Well then, thank you."

The shifting sands revealed a whole group of brigands, coming their way.

"Reinforcements are coming. Stay near."

He'd definitely grown even stronger. The brigands were no match for his magic. Blades of wind conjured up felled one after another. She let loose arrows from her quill, felling even more brigands. In that moment, they were in tandem, perfectly in step.

*

Days after finding the hidden oasis, the army had taken a respite in a fort near. Which for once meant actual beds, and rooms, for once. Laurent had shadowed her lately, constantly questioning the state of her health, her bow, her safety. It seemed whenever she looked up, he was there. A Heal staff in hand if she had so much as a paper cut.

This time, however, it wasn't concerns he shared, but an offer. All around them, the grunts of swords clashing from the nearby training grounds. He had to speak above the clamor, yet even louder, his calm voice was soothing.

His mouth twisted, slightly, in concern. "Have you eaten?"

"No, not yet."

His lips pursed. "Then we must rectify that immediately. It would not do, what if you fainted upon the very training field? I couldn't bear such a thought. I packed a lunch for us. And I thought, perhaps, would you like to test magic with me? No dark magic shall come near, no worries."

Even the fear of failure was tempered by a certain longing. She had followed her mother's movements and taught herself and never received a single word of praise.

"I'll try," she said. "Though maybe we should do it outdoors in case..." She laughed nervously. In case her other side came out, and the tiny flames turned into an inferno."I'd feel awful wasting tomes, though."

"Oh, no. I bought these with my own funds. Consider it a gift. And tomes used in practice are never a waste."

"Well, o-okay," Noire said.

She tried to calm herself. She wanted to believe so badly that he wouldn't look down on her when she inevitably failed.

Even though she'd been here some time, she still never failed to be awed at how verdant this time was. The fell dragon Grima had not yet destroyed the entirety of the world. From the courtyard, through the windows, she could see trees rising up, with leaves that rustled in the wind. Had she leaned over, she would've seen whole unblemished meadows, filled with life.

He undid his satchel, and revealed slightly blackened fish tied in a slightly ripped checkered cloth.

"Did you buy these when you did the itinerary?"

"No. I caught it myself when we cleaned up the remnants of the Risen earlier in that wooded area. After making a makeshift spear, and then cooked it via a fire tome. The glaze is made from honey and berries."

"Wait, did all this yourself?"

"Is that such a surprise? Father always taught that a man should learn to cook his food himself. He showed me how to cook food using a fire tome before he died. I've begun to share similar pursuits with this version of him."

She took a bite of the tender meat. It had a sweet aftertaste. "It's really good, actually. I never imagined you could be so creative with recipes."

Laurent smiled, and pushed up his glasses. "I'm glad that I've lived up to his recipes."

After the lunch, she felt surprisingly steadier. She hadn't felt hungry, but now that she'd eaten, she realized that she'd definitely needed the nourishment.

"Shall we begin?"

"All right..."

She laid out the book in the grass and held out her palm outstretched. Each word summoned a small flame. The flames floated above her palm, like a wisp o the will through the forests, a lost soul in the darkness. Finally she let her breath out and it disappeared.

"Wow...I didn't mess it up," Noire said.

"Quite extraordinary. Is this what magical blood can do, go beyond even the bounds of class?"

"Maybe? I'm not really sure. I never had a formal training. I just followed what my mother did and picked up the habit."

"Excelsor! That's even more incredible. I would be happy to teach you if you wish for formal training.

She hugged the tome to her. If only it was a bit bigger and she could hide her blush. It was so rare for anyone to compliment her. She kept each of Laurent's compliments like treasures that she would remember fondly, to feel that same warmth again.

"Um, Laurent? Can I see a demonstration too?"

"Gladly. Do you wish for a full magic assault upon a training dummy, something smaller, like you did?"

"Smaller--for now. Maybe both later? It's...nice watching your magic. Considering you don't use it on other people and it's--pretty."

He flipped open his fire tome opened his palm. The flame that sprung up there shifted shape, until it resembled a flower. His brow furrowed in concentration until that one flower turned into a whole bouquet. They dissipated slowly, like petals falling to the ground.

"Wow, you have that much control?" No wonder, it was Laurent, after all.

"Sometimes, I find amusement in experiments which are functionally useless, yet have some aesthetic quality. Mother sees little use in it, yet I find it a fascinating diversion."

He took out another tome, this time a yellow thunder one, and flipped open the pages. He focused the small ball of thunder until sparks began to spread out, and it sailed above them like a little bird.

She watched in wonder. His control over the elemental infusion was absolute. It hovered above her outstretched fingers.

Finally, the bolt dissipated into nothing. He didn't even look exhausted by the effort.

"If it's brought a smile to your face, then all my gratuitous experiments are certainly not in vain," Laurent said. "And it's no wonder. It's only human nature to want to impress a beautiful woman."

She blushed, and glanced down.

"Ah, yes, that reminds me--about those talismans. I still am carrying them for you; I haven't forgotten." He began to dig into his satchel. She held up her hand.

"No... Please keep it safe for a bit longer," Noire said.

"If that's what you wish. Next time, would you teach me how to make talismans, like you spoke of back then? Perhaps tomorrow, if time allows?"

Some people in the army even found her obsession with constantly making talismans creepy, but Laurent had always been nothing but kind about it, and shown the utmost interest.

"I really want to, but I don't have the materials on hand."

"I'll purchase them, no need. I personally volunteered to do the shopping for the army. I always stick to budget, unlike certain others," Laurent said.

Noire laughed softly. She'd caught Severa and Laurent fighting over her spendthrift ways just earlier that day.

"If you wish to come into town with me tomorrow, you could help pick them out. I'm sure you'll have a great eye for such things."

She felt such joy bubble up in her. Was she allowed to feel like this? To hope and to enjoy an outing like this? She pushed on past the doubt. She was greedy enough that she'd take this, no matter how much it hurt her later.

"I'd love to," Noire said.

Still, there was a thought constantly at the back of her mind. _Laurent seems different, somehow._

"Um, Laurent--You seem different. You're so much taller, and even your face--Has the food of this era agreed with you so much?

"You noticed then? None of the others have taken notice yet. Of course, my parents of this era have not met me yet and could not tell. I thought surely Lucina would notice, but perhaps the weight of saving the world is too much a distraction. I hardly fault her for being preoccupied."

Unlike Lucina who was always looking outwards, Noire was always drawn inwards. Her own growing dread about everything, her memories, her nightmares. The nightmares blooming outside of them in this world, slowly turning it to ruin like their own was just another horror of those she knew intimately every moment.

He took off his glasses and began to clean them with his lens cloth. She couldn't tell if it was merely fastidious, or an excuse to busy his hands and not meet her gaze. "It seems time travel is an inexact science. I was sent much earlier. Lucina had not even been born at that time. For years I was separated from anyone I knew."

Noire covered her mouth with her gloved hand. "What? But---How?"

"I've read countless books trying to figure out the logistics of what transpired. None have offered much light, I am afraid," Laurent said.

"At first, I thought it could be a blessing. Perhaps I could find something to save us all. Perhaps even Naga had chosen me to research and bring to light something to help Lucina. However, those hopes soon faded. I was completely alone, for so many years...The truth is, I missed you terribly. Ahem--all of you, that is. Every time I thought I would die from loneliness, I would hold this talisman tight, and remember how you saved me. It was one of the few comforts I had during that time."

"Laurent...."

"I will forever be thankful that you came out bring me back to my senses with such a tongue lashing." He chuckled to himself, cheeks bright at the memory. "I owe you my life for that."

"You saved me, too," Noire said softly.

When she'd been afraid, he'd taken her hand. He'd held her close during that long night, and protected her from the Risen.

She could feel her other side close as she grabbed his hand suddenly--yanked, really. He looked surprised, even taken aback.

"You aren't alone! And I....I'm... I mean, we're...all here."

She caught her breath and pushed her other side down. The last thing she needed was to lash out at Laurent for something he had no control over. The person she was angry at was herself. Angry that she felt the need to pull back when he'd been so kind to her, angry that she couldn't get over the feeling that she wasn't worthy of him, even as much as it filled her with happiness to see him again and be with him like this.

"Sorry, she--she was coming out. I had to s-stop her."

"No, I'm glad...Noire, you need not control yourself around me," Laurent said. "I do not fear her. Far be from it, I am very thankful for her--deep vitriol bringing me back to my senses, and her power erupting on the battlefield. Her fury is magnificent."

"I have to admit, that's hard to believe. But...if that's what it takes to get you to rest too, then..."

"Thank you for your concern," Laurent said. "But what is past is past. I must focus all my efforts forward."

Laurent was always pushing his own pain down, all for the sake of the army, the cause. He did so much to try and prevent her from having as much as a sunburn, all the while the ache at away at him.

She let go of his hands, and balled her fist about her talisman. "You hypocritical fool! You cannot speak of this vessel's carelessness, when you yourself are so careless about your own well being!"

He blushed deep, and closed his eyes. "That is....I cannot take this anymore," Laurent said softly.

This broke her out of her other side. "I'm so sorry. She just burst out. I-I'll try and better control her in the future, so please....please don't go."

_Don't think me a monster. Not you. I couldn't bear if you ever thought of me like that... Please, just don't hate me._

He suddenly took her hands in his.

"No. I would never want you to stop yourself. Noire, I promised myself I would wait until the war was over. I know I have been not subtle at times, yet I could not break my promise to myself that I would wait until peace returned. But, I cannot hold back any longer. I love you, Noire. Both of you, every facet of you. I love every single thing about you, and have for so unbearably long. All those years, I felt the ache of loneliness, but I missed you most of all. I could only lift up a prayer and hope that wherever you had gone, you were safe until I could meet you again."

She blushed, barely able to process what he said, or form words. "Laurent...? You...? Love me?"

"Please never hate that beautiful side of you, or hold back your fire. Instead, keep it for when it is just us two."

"It's still so hard to believe that anyone could like either side of me. One's a coward, the other's a shrieking monster," Noire said.

A crease formed between his brows. "Noire, be kind to yourself." He let go of her hands, only to lift her chin with his gloved hand. "Look me in the eyes, and know I speak no lies. I would never make a jape of such a thing, flirt so idly, or be careless with your heart."

He smiled gently down at her. His gloved hand was cool against her chin. She placed her hand over his, and moved to nuzzle her cheek against his palm.

She'd craved his touch, his nearness yet was scarcely able to believe that he would even want to be in her presence, let alone love her back.

"I've felt like this for a long time, even before you saved me then. Perhaps as long as I could remember, I've been in love with you. Spending time with you only made the feelings that more potent, and hard to keep hidden. But any distraction could cause the entire world to crumble, I could not risk it. I could only watch over you, until it was safe to confess my feelings. However, in this era, there are more in this battle, and things are slightly less desperate. And yet, I am haunted by the possibility that you could be injured. I could barely sleep at the thought of you pushing yourself too far, being injured on the battlefield, or even worse."

"You treated that paper cut like it was the end of the world," Noire said. "You followed after me, pestering me to check the soundness of my weapons, and to rest at every turn."

"Yes, and you gave me a wonderful tongue-lashing for that. Which I soundly deserved. I meant not to prattle on, I merely worried about you. I will be more forthright with my feelings next time."

She looked away. "I had feelings for you, too, but I couldn't bear even face them. It felt so hopeless that someone like you would ever even give me a second glance. I thought that surely you pitied me. That was why you were always so kind to me."

"Noire, I was quite blatant. How could you have gotten such an idea from me telling you that I found you so beautiful? I thought for sure I'd tipped my hand that time." Laurent said, fond exasperation in his voice.

"I'm just a pessimist. I can't see the good in anything. I always expect the worst."

"Then I will simply have to spend the rest of my life by your side, rebuilding our world, until you can feel hopeful again. I will become a man who can make the world a better place for you."

"If anyone can, it's you," Noire said.

*

Technically, it was something like a first date, though she didn't have a cute dress to make it even remotely special. So, she'd simply finger-combed her hair, washed up and arrived dressed and ready ten minutes earlier than even Laurent.

"I didn't expect you so soon, Noire. I'd brought along the abacus to do some figures while I waited."

Really, having him impressed was worth being a little groggy in the morning. Noire wasn't used to feeling like she'd impressed anyone.

At least, before she and Laurent were like this.

"You like things prompt...besides, I really am excited to go, and to see you..."

She glanced away, with a blush.

"Noire, may I come closer?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to be nearer to the woman I love," he said. "Are you comfortable with this? If you want to wait, I'll understand."

Noire looked down the empty hall. " _Right here?_ Where anyone could see?"

He chuckled. "I assure you, I do not intend to consummate our future marriage right there against a public wall where anyone could see. ...At least, not yet."

Noire blushed even more. But she nodded, unable to form words from the way the heat filled her skin.

His gaze was so tender. Still, her mind was filled with pessimistic warnings. _This can't last. The world will fall and you will hurt more than before when you have to bury him shortly before your own death._

She pushed those thoughts down. She'd war with the constant dark thoughts in her mind, just as vicious as any dragon, if it meant she could glean some happiness in this world.

"Did I go too far in my jest? My apologies."

"No...I was just surprised, that was all."

"Good."

He leaned in and touched her face. "Thank you for coming with me. I'm looking forward to spending the day with you--and every day after that."

He lifted her chin, ever so slightly. "Ah....look at me. You are a sight to behold."

"F-flattery will get you nowhere. you're the real catch!"

When he spoke so eloquently like that, it was hard to respond properly. Nothing she said was hardly enough to describe how utterly _happy_ she was. She'd woken up that day barely able to believe it hadn't been a dream, but it wasn't.

And the most incredible thing was this would only get better. She'd get to keep spending time with him, exchanging soft glances and caresses, and more. She could have this. A person who loved her, a future, maybe even one day, a peaceful world.

She thought that in that moment he would surely kiss her. His gaze lingered on her lips, and the moments stretched on. And she wanted that, even in a public hall where anyone could walk in on them. But, he glanced away.

"We must be going. The heat will be unbearable by noontime, especially with a load to carry. I wouldn't want you to get heat sickness," Laurent said.

"Oh, okay..."

She followed after him. She still felt a little dazed from his touch, and earlier--surprisingly suggestive--comments.

*

The town was untouched by the Risen, or brigands. All of main street was lined with stalls and shops. Noire could only gape as she passed. The people were so carefree and caught in their mundane activities. The shopkeepers yelled out their wares at the passing crowds.

"I know. The abundance of this time is a sight to behold. It took me quite some time to grow accustomed myself. Even more, there are so many libraries and stores of knowledge that had been lost."

"Wow..." she said softly.

"We've got a list of weapons to get, then a visit to a magic shop to procure the materials for those talismans, then a lunch..."

His gaze went far off into the distance.

"Is something the matter? Did you forget anything, Laurent?"

"I was mentally trying to calculate whether I could visit any of the bookstores or libraries here."

"Of course you should! You do so much for all of us, and sometimes you get yelled for it. And not just me," Noire said.

He smiled. "That hardly counts; getting a tongue lashing from you is such an exhilarating and incredible experience."

She blushed. "Ehe..."

"Ah, there's the armory. Do you need any weapons? Did you check your bow yet?"

"Um, we just left. I-I haven't had time at all today," Noire said.

A crease formed between his brows. "Hmmm."

Emotions swirled inside her as he made the purchases. He was judging her for the impossible. He wished her to sleep, yet he wanted her to also stay up at all hours caring for her bow?

Noire snarled. "You ask the impossible, you ceaseless fiend! Make up your mind, shall this vessel sleep or be up at all hours with common drudgery?!"

He made a sharp intake of breath, with cheeks flushed, and even a slight moan before he composed himself. "A fair point. I was..ah...merely seeing if you needed a new bow while I was purchasing supplies."

She came back, her lips slightly parted with an apology upon her lips. "Oh...sorry..."

"No need. I deserved that...and welcomed it. I'll add another to the list, then," he said.

Laurent bought several fire tomes and weapons of iron. They weren't the strongest, but also were quite cheap. After he made the purchases, and handed her a new bow fortified with iron.

"Noire, I do not mean to prattle on, or pester. I merely am constantly filled with concern for the woman I adore. I want you to be safe upon the battlefield. The thought of you caught, defenseless is too much for me to bear."

She glanced down, and drew a line across the cobblestones with her boot. "I know. I didn't mean to yell...Sometimes it just happens."

His gaze grew tender, and soft. "Do not apologize. I am always gladdened to feel the bite of her fury, and be put so soundly in my place."

She clutched her bow a little tighter, and let out a soft laugh. She was still growing accustomed to his fascination with her more volatile side. It was a comfort she wanted so dearly to accept. She could slowly release the fear of driving someone away someone she loved when her other side came out.

If only her mind would stop with the constant negative words, tearing her to pieces.

Once their satchels were filled, they went further down the line of stalls. They settled at a magic stall, run by a Plegian refugee. Noire recognized the symbols upon her dark cloak immediately.

"What are you looking for, dear?" said the old woman, clad in dark robes. Her face was hidden away with a hood. Given the aura of dark magic around her, just like Noire's parents, it could be due to her face being withered.

She knew well now why her mother had never taught her how to hex. In books, and being able to converse with her father, a talented dark mage in his own right. Many times her father had pulled down his sleeves to gleefully show her the rashes and boils working dark magic.

"What do you...need?" She laughed softly in a way which reminded Noire of her mother enough leave Noire unnerved. For all she knew, this woman could be a relative of hers in this era. Hers had died long before she ever got a chance to meet them. Another casualty of the Grimleal.

"I'm-- _we're_ making talismans," Noire said quickly.

"Ah...those are always good... What kind of charm?"

"I only learned from my mother," Noire said softly.

"What you feel deep inside is what the charm will hold."

"Fascinating," Laurent said. "So theoretically one could make an infinite amount of talismans. And one could focus upon such feelings to infuse the charm with them."

"You could say that," the woman said.

Usually, her feeling was _I would pray to any god if they would save me from this horror my life has become_. But lately, something had shifted. She was starting to hope, despite herself. She had taken a chance and fallen in love.

She lifted up the thick brocade. None of them had the unmistakable feel of dark magic. She picked up thick bound white string that felt as if it'd been blessed by monks.

"Laurent, which do you wish to get for your talisman?"

"Actually, I'd rather watch. I find the whole process rather fascinating. I'm sure you will have much more expertise, and I'd rather follow your lead."

Laurent following her guidance still left her feeling somewhat incredulous...and even a little proud? Maybe even smug? She so rarely got to be the expert on anything, let alone compared to him. The thought that she'd get to be the one in charge, leading him, was kind of addicting. Though she knew that she couldn't give in to these feelings. Because there weren't many things she could ever lead in. Except being a coward who cried often and paniced ever more. She was exceedingly good at doing that.

Laurent paid and pocketed the tools. He thanked the shopkeeper, and just as they were about move on towards their choice of lunch, a glint caught her eye. There were ribbons and other hair decorations all laid out over the display. An elderly male shopkeeper in the robes of a sage presided over the stall.

"Which do you want?" Laurent said.

"...Really? Are you sure?"

"Of course," he said gently.

It was such a difficult choice. Her hand lingered over each one, only finding more beauty than she ever could've imagined. Just months before, a peaceful time out with a person she loved would've been unthinkable. There was a silver bird, a feather, two soft green ribbons, a silver flower with delicate flowers, and a long golden chain that seemed to be meant to be braided within the hair itself.

"Do you wish to have them all, Noire?" Laurent said.

The shopkeeper's wizened face lit up in a smile. "Excellent choice, sir."

"I-- I'm having a hard time choosing, that's all. I wouldn't want to make Robin mad for hurting the budget," Noire said.

"This will come from my personal funds," Laurent said.

Noire glanced up. "Robin pays you that much?"

"Oh, I often take on extra work for coin when we go to town. In an afternoon I can balance books for shopkeepers, or other work. It's how I've been surviving all these years, after all. I've perfected the technique until I can manage such tasks in mere hours."

Before she could raise another protest, he handed over the gold, and the grateful shopkeeper wrapped each of them in turn.

He handed the small bundle towards her, and Noire couldn't help but look inside. They were shiny, like gold. Noire had difficulty actually spending any of the gold she had. The pieces were just so shiny, and lovely to look at. She would flip them over and over and feel the cold metal in her hands. Like a little sun in her palm.

"When I tell Severa, she won't believe me," Noire said.

"That proof should be sufficient," Laurent said dryly.

Noire gave him a sidelong glance. "You really don't mind? You were so angry at Severa for frivolously buying all that fruit."

"Shamelessly wasting funds trusted for weapons and other necessities in a war is a far cry from me using my own personal funds to make the woman I love smile."

And she could hardly argue with that.

He picked one of the bunch, a silver flower barrette, and clipped it behind her ear. Noire blushed at the contact.

"There, I knew it would look lovely on you. The color is quite flattering to your pale hair."

Noire brushed her fingers across the decoration, with a slight blush. "Thank you. I never imagined that I could...live like this. Happily, with someone I.. love in a world which...it isn't completely peaceful, but there's still so much left beauty left here."

As lunch neared, the crowd towards the food stands grew near impenetrable. Laurent grimaced.

"Perhaps we have tarried too long. The wait in those lines would be truly insufferable. Perhaps our time would be better spent finishing up the last of the items to buy until this crowd isn't quite so thick. Are you famished, Noire?"

"Was it my fault, with how I took so long to decide which hair decoration to buy?"

"No, sometimes these things are inescapable. I thought I had properly calculated the exact time which it would take to buy the supplies, yet the shopkeeper offered me several deals, and then there was adding that onto the budget. My only worry is that you might faint from lack of nourishment."

She'd spent many nights before she came to this era hungry, with nothing to fill the ache inside her but memories, regrets and sorrow. "I'll be okay..."

"Actually, that reminds me--" He dug into his bag and pulled out some dried meat that had been cured with fruits and berries.

"There. You need not be hungry. I keep them around for long marches. Go ahead, though be careful; they can be quite tough."

She glanced up towards him. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Though the aroma of that food is tempting, I must admit that I'm more distracted by the potential finds that await at the bookshop. So much I can barely focus, and surely it would leave any food I had utterly tasteless with distraction."

Noire giggled softly. Laurent's sheer fondness for books was honestly quite...adorable. She appreciated it even more now. For once, she'd been drawn away from the war, and the war in her mind. She could simply enjoy being a woman out on a date with the man she loved.

She thankfully took the dried meat, which had a faintly smoky scent to it. It was just as tough as he warned, yet it helped soothe her growling stomach. It had a faintly magical taste. He must've used the fire tome to dry it.

Add that up to another of Laurent's many talents. Sometimes, she couldn't help but feel like she paled in comparison to him, but instead of feeling awful and wallowing in feeling inadequate, she fought back.

_He loves the part of you that lashes out. He loves you._

She sighed and forced herself to focus on the store around her, instead of the constantly swirling negative thoughts in her mind.

Magical implements, such as talismans and tomes were kept in the window display. A distracted mage, with a giant hat and dull robes red a tome at the front desk. The shopkeeper didn't even offer a greeting as they came in. The bookshop was filled with shelf after shelf of tomes. Some were magical, others seemed historical. She glanced over the titles, yet couldn't read a single word.

In the end, she just wasn't smart enough. Doubts came in, so suddenly. _If I'm so pathetic I can't even read a single tome, how can he even like me? He'll get bored when I can't be his intellectual equal...It's only a matter of time._

Again, these horrible thoughts were ceaseless. _No...Laurent loves me. He said so. All of me._

"I can't even make out those titles," she said, sadness creeping into her voice.

He glanced up. "That's because you're in the ancient languages section. Even I could not make a full translation. I believe that rune means 'world' and the one there means 'bringer.' Perhaps it is about the gods of that time."

He pulled one from another shelf, and handed it to her.

"Here, this one is in modern tongue," he said.

She opened the pages. In large gilded letters, the title read _The Makings of Fire: A Mage's Necessity._.

"Oh! I can read this one just fine," Noire said.

"Hmmm... You seemed very upset. Did you wish to learn the ancient tongue that badly?"

"I...I didn't realize it wasn't in modern tongue. I didn't see the sign. To see so many letters and suddenly not be able to read...it's not a good feeling."

"Understandable. However, we could always learn it together should you wish to translate it," Laurent said.

Noire glanced away. "Um, maybe someday. We're pretty busy with this--war."

"Of course," he said.

The dark doubts in her mind had been temporarily exorcised. Laurent hadn't suddenly fallen out of love with her because she didn't immediately recognize an archaic and likely dead language. She brushed her hand over the silver flower in her hair. _Laurent loves me. So....shut up, already._

She knew these dark thoughts of hers would simply wait for another time to creep up and try and strangle away all her happiness with reminders that the world was cruel, that nothing could last for her. She'd strike against them every day, every hour if need be. An unending battle with herself until death came for her with.

She'd get her joyous life, even if it meant she had to fight for it.

Laurent again browsed the stacks of books and found a book on the collected history of Ylisse. Another caught his eye, and she saw the light of a smile as he added that too, to the list. As he browsed, Noire kept looking through her new hair decorations.

In the end, all she wanted was a happy, normal life. Her parents back with her, warm and kind compliments, and a world that wasn't on the brink of ruin, and pretty things. To be admired, to be treated kindly by someone she loved completely.

And in the space of a few months, she gotten almost all of that. Yes, this version of her parents would technically never be 'hers,' and the world still hadn't become completely peaceful...But it didn't change how she felt in this moment.

Out on a town with Laurent, one free of Risen, and so wonderfully peaceful, so mundane. Oh, how she'd craved this moment. Now, if only it could happen again and again, until such a thing was her new sense of normal.

Her pessimistic mind could hardly fathom it, as much as she craved such a thing.

*

Once they left the bookshop, the crowds had finally dispersed with their lunches. Laurent bought sweet smelling fruit, two things called a Shepherd's pie. (She thought at first they were named in honor of the Shepherds themselves. However, it turned out they were named for the actual shepherds. They were shaped like a dessert, but filled with meat and vegetables inside. The last purchase were a pair of small desserts, made with flour around cold sweet cream. They were so round, they fit perfectly within her palm.

They left the town, and sat sat under the shade of several trees just outside the town limits. There were no calls of brigands, or Risen here, in such a quiet place. Noire left her gloves beside the satchels and his large hat, though Laurent kept his on.

Peach fuzz brushed against her lips and fingerstips as she ate. She savored each wonderful taste. He watched her as she ate.

"What?"

"Your enthusiasm is enchanting, that is all."

"It's good. You should try some."

"And I will," he said.

After the delicious peach, she had a handful of fresh berries which left her hands stained with juice. She wiped her hands clean upon the grass. Each new flavor was more delightful, more filling. The thought that she could spend the rest of her life like this--under dappled sunlight, with a good food and books scattered about was wondrous.

Perhaps not realistic, but wondrous still.

Laurent nibbled on his Shepherd's pie, careful to not to drop crumbs on his robes. He left the tome far enough that nothing would spill down.

Pages turned, as Laurent looked through one of his new finds. He couldn't stop smiling.

Noire laughed softly. "One of the books really excited you. Then again, they always do."

He looked up from his tome. "You could say that, yes. There are obscure, nigh useless books of magic. I find them fascinating, and in truth, I deeply enjoy collecting them. Though there is no use of them within battle. I seek out and find every single one I can in every town. It is one reason why I volunteered to shop for the supplies. Well, that and many are far more careless with the funds."

"What do they do?" Noire said.

"Recently, I found one which makes rainbows."

"Rainbows? Does it summon a storm?"

"No, none so powerful. Infinitesimally rainbows, that fall upon the ground and suddenly disappear."

"Oh! That actually sounds a bit...fun," Noire said.

He burst into a big smile. "Yes! Mother does not understand these pursuits. She finds these books a mere waste of time. I've found many of them within this era."

"And then, there is this." He started the chanting incantation, focused entirely upon the tome. Then took in a gulp of air and puffed out his cheeks.

_Can you hear me? You look beautiful today, Noire. Though you always look so lovely. I am sure I am the envy of the town with you at my side._

Noire gasped. "I can hear you within my mind!"

He let out his breath with a gasp. "It provides a short burst of telepathic power, but only when as long as one could hold their breath, thus rendering it largely useless."

"Actually, wouldn't it be good in espionage? If anyone asked, it would be a trick tome, but...certain messages could be passed, no? It would only work with short things, but it still could be really useful."

Understanding dawned on his face. "Excelsor! You're brilliant. The detractions made me believe it was essentially useless for anything but parlor tricks. However, they would provide an excellent cover. I wonder if I can find any use other than frivolous enjoyment. Then again, they have already succeeded in the most important thing. Bringing a smile to the woman I love."

She bit her lip, and let out a little laugh. She was still getting used to all this frank affection and emotion. But oh, how she craved it, adored it.

He closed the tome. "When we return, I'll show you the rest of them. I have amassed a whole library. And yes, it's frivolous to invest in something like that when we are at war, and must travel constantly. Still, I cannot help myself."

"But it makes you happy, and that's important too," Noire said.

He chuckled softly. "You're right. They do so make me happy. How could I argue with a sound declaration like that?"

"Ah, before I forget, could we start making talismans now, during this break? I have been thinking for many a year that I wanted to make them. In fact, I never pursued them further when I arrived here. It left me with too much melancholy that I was parted with everyone, and especially you. I'm quite eager to see you at work."

There again was the gap. What had been a few months to her was several years to him. She wished so much that she could find some way to make this better. But any words would seem empty.

"Of course."

He removed the materials from his satchel. She took the material and began the familiar course of making a talisman. He watched, rapt at each movement of her fingers.

"First you place the string and focus your energy on it, then you fold the cloth...yes, like that."

Laurent began to follow her lead.

"Then, you use a happiness curse?" Laurent said.

"There's many ways. Some people infuse the charms with a prayer written onto a small piece of paper, others use a core of anima magic. Maybe the anima magic would be easier for you."

He was closer than she realized, and his eyes were at her lips. She broke off, and tied the last knot. "There. It's simple. I'm sure it'll come easily to you. Everything does, after all..."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You're smart, a c-complete prodigy, really," Noire said. "You always do so much for the army, and you control magic so effortlessly. Of course you'd catch on fast."

The talisman was laid in the palm of his hand. He closed his fingers slowly around it. "When I was a child, my mother said I should give up magic, for I was deeply unsuited. Despite being the son of two powerful mages, I couldn't even so much make a spark come forth. I would practice for hours upon hours and come up completely fruitless. I was especially poor at the wind tome. But father was always kind to me, and kept encouraging me to try again. Eventually, I overcame my natural clumsiness in magic and became a decent enough mage."

Decent enough hardly seemed the fitting word for him. Even as much as the thought of him thinking poorly of himself grated at her, she could hardly fault him for being self-deprecating without being a hypocrite.

"I...I never would've guessed. You seemed so good at everything. I admit, I envied you as much as I admired you. Because I knew I'd never reach that kind of level of composure and strength. You always were so clear-headed in every battle, while I was always on the brink of breaking down. Even though being around you made me feel safer, it also made me realize I'd never reach your level."

"That is merely hard work. I had to devote myself to training twice as hard as anyone with a natural proclivity for such things. You're the true prodigy, Noire. To be able to call forth magic and hexes even while classed as an archer, without proper training, and to manage to summon up magic the first time of reading the books is truly extraordinary," Laurent said.

She shook her head. "A prodigy? Me? I... I always feel so weak. Like I'm a burden upon everyone."

"Yet you keep fighting. Even when it takes so much out of you. You have such strength to keep holding on even when you have been through so many tumultuous times. Sadness and fear aren't weaknesses. They're simply emotions, in the end. The truth lack of strength is giving into them completely. To overcome them even when you are beset at every side...that is courage."

His hand brushed her cheek. "I could learn so much from you. I feel like beside you, I can truly become peerless in my abilities."

She closed her eyes. "Thank you, Laurent. You always have such nice things to say about me. I..."

How could she even put into words what this feeling was to her? The truth was, Noire had started to practice with other weapons, and magic recently, and even considered changing her class with one of the Second Seals which were in such abundance in this era. His gentle smile, the way he'd pat her hair and give her such kind words was deeply addictive.

Even more, the realization that past the first jolt of fear, she still could achieve.

She'd been desperately starved for any kind of human contact, for any kind of comfort. Though the Tharja of this era was kinder, and more receptive than her mother had been, she still was closed off and did not give compliments easily.

And each gentle touch and kind word only made her want more.

Except, no matter what she did, the thought always followed her and nipped at her heels.

Noire looked down, and hugged herself. "Sometimes I wonder how someone like you could love someone like me. I'm always scared. I cry all the time and I don't even remember to take care of my bow. I can barely even manage to sleep. It should be the simplest thing in the world, and I can't even manage that."

"I knew you worried about your other side side, but you thought people disliked both sides of you?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm ruining our perfect day out. I ruin everything..."

"You ruined nothing, Noire. I am glad you trusted me enough to speak out about this. The war has left scars upon all of us. Each of us has gone through horrific circumstances. Only with peace will we finally begin to heal."

Her fists balled. "But what if...I don't ever heal? What if I'm constantly scared my entire life? Wouldn't you....tire of that?"

"You worry so much, that's what I love about you. If you are, then I will stay by your side and comfort you each and every time."

"How could you love this about me? All the ugly parts of me. The violent other side of me, the weak side of me....I don't understand. I want you to love me so much, but..."

"I love all of you, Noire. I would never tire or grow weary of you."

Easy to say in their second day of officially being together, but years down the road when he was woken up every night when she awoke with nightmares and night terrors? Years later when he'd had to reassure her every single day over continuous petty fears.

And even now, she couldn't enjoy the first glow of love, and a day out without being bogged down by the negative voices, the ghosts in her mind.

"Noire, may I come closer?"

"You always ask...do lovers even do that?"

It seemed in romantic books there was some kind of mental melding and they always seemed to just _know_. A heated gaze and a desperate touch.

"I wouldn't want to frighten or alarm you by accident with a surprise show of affection. Perhaps one day we can reach the level of simply intimacy where you will welcome and adore every touch, and I need not ask. But considering that you are on high alert due to the current war, it would be tread carefully. Though, if your other side came out due to being surprised, I certainly would be pleased as well."

She blushed a little at that.

He wrapped his arms about her. "Let me repeat myself until you accept it: uou have not ruined anything. Today has been a wondrous day. And even more, I am gladdened that you have shown your fears, so we can face them together. I love you entirely, and there is nothing you could ever do to make me love you less. Be it rage, scream, fear or cry. No matter what side of yourself you show, I will love you."

She rested her head against his chest, and bit back the compulsion to apologize for everything. The day, her very existence.

His fingers stroked her hair. Slowly, the horrible thoughts started to fall away, and she grew more calm. At least, momentarily.

 

He drew back, simply to look down on her. With the way his gloved hands lingered at her cheeks, she thought he must be looking to see if he needed to dry her tears.

"There, are you feeling better now?"

She nodded. "A little..."

"Those thoughts are wrong. The dreams are wrong. I will not leave your side as long as I draw breath. Please remember this."

He glanced down at her lips.

"Truly, this is hardly the time, and yet..."

"And yet?" Noire asked.

"Noire, the last thing I would wish would be to rush you... however, I cannot stop thinking about what it would be to kiss you. I've held back so many times. Being able to spend time with you, and be so open with my feelings has only made the desire intensify."

Noire couldn't meet his eyes as she said the words which had been stuck on the tip of her tongue for so long. Years, by his time. Months, by hers.

"...The truth is, I thought a lot about it back then. When we were at the shelter. How easy it would be to kiss you. I wanted to, but I felt like you wouldn't want anything to do with someone like me."

He chuckled. "You couldn't have been more wrong. Back then, I wanted to kiss you very much. But it was hardly the time. And I hadn't properly confessed to you. So I had to draw away, and keep my mind focused, and still keep composed enough to comfort you. Even though it pushed me to my limits to not tell you that I loved you right there, I suppose it was good practice in self-control."

She tilted her head. "All that for me poking you?"

He leaned in. His voice was low, and filled with an intensity she couldn't name, but made her heart beat so. "One day, I'll show you the truth of why I drew away, so you'll never wonder again."

He removed his glove and ran his finger over her lower lip. The warmth of his touch was even more intense against her lips.

"But that will be some time away... Noire, I want to kiss you so very much. Is that all right with you?"

"There's nothing I'd want more," Noire said softly.

"I've only read about this in books. However, I believe with practice, I will improve. Still, it may require some mishaps and clumsy mistakes along the way. Such things are to be expected of those still learning. Still, I will endeavor to do my best for you," Laurent said.

"I haven't ever, either. No one liked me like that. In fact, I think I scared them all away. Except you."

"I am deeply grateful that my fellow comrades either respect my feelings for you, or lack any sense of true beauty at all. Because I can truly say there is no more beautiful person I have ever met, or ever met. Inside and out, you and her."

Her fingers tightened reflexively on her talisman. "KISS ME ALREADY, YOU FOOL!"

"Ah...and there she is...Gladly. You always know when to shut me up."

The first time he bent down, their noses brushed against each other, and his glasses pushed up past his eyebrows.

She giggled as he let out a groan, and pushed his glasses back into place. "It seems I did not account for some of the distance of our trajectory. No matter, I will simply recalculate."

This time, he angled his face. She was wrapped up in an embrace, His mouth tasted sweet, faintly of apples. The leaves rustled above them. Her lips tingled with warmth at the point of contact. His fingers brushed against her cheek, held her steady.

Her hand lingered on his chest, where she could feel his heartbeat rise.

She forgot all her worries in that singular moment. The breeze against her cheek, the warm day were far away in this peaceful point of their two bodies.

When he drew back, she placed her hand over her heart, which beat so, startled by how affected she was. Noire was still growing accustomed to the fact that good things could come to her in this era.

He pushed up his glasses. "That was..."

"Ehe..."

"Incredible. Wondrous. Utterly splendid. Truly, all these words fail. These only touch on the majesty of being this close to you was. Oh, I want to do it again."

"Me too," Noire said.

He pulled her up onto his lap, and brushed her hair back. He laid back, with a whisper of _I'm all yours._

Noire glanced back towards the road that led to their encampment. "Laurent, we'll have to return soon..." Noire said.

"Of course...but a few minutes tarrying is to be understood. The lines were so very long, the load was heavy. It would be only natural to need a few moment's rest--or maybe more."

"Are you sure I'm not too heavy on you?" she said.

"No, the weight of you upon me is truly breathtaking. More so than I ever could've imagined."

Noire shifted, until she straddled him. His lips parted, so soft and kissable at this.  
She cupped his face and gently pressed her lips to his. The tingle and warm of the caress was even more intense this time. But, her lungs ached, and she broke apart for breath. His face was flushed, and he stared up at her tenderly, and in a way she couldn't define. Anticipation? Passion?

"Is something the matter, Noire?"

"I---forgot to breathe," Noire gasped.

"Careful now," he said.

"I just--got so caught up, and..."

She suddenly glanced back at the road. Had she heard something, or was it just the rapid beating of her heart?

She was suddenly struck by the sheer embarrassment that would happen if they were caught, kissing like this. Even more the position of her straddling his lap. They were still clothed, but in this wooded area, it would like they were...they were... She let out a cry and pulled away.

"Did you hear something, Noire? Is it brigands or Risen?"

"No, I just...realized how it would look if anyone saw us. It'd be so embarrassing. Especially if it was someone from the army."

Laurent cleared his throat. "Yes, you're entirely correct. Such matters should be kept to us too...for now. Though, I am not ashamed of being caught with you in a compromising position, or otherwise."

"I couldn't even face anyone for so long if they saw me--like that."

She quickly gathered up the materials of the talismans. He rose, albeit somewhat dazed, and with reluctance, and began to gather up the tomes he had shown her.

"So..it's time to go back," Noire said. She was unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Yes, I suppose it is. Though, I must say, the day has not even ended and I already cannot wait until the next with you."

But before she could respond, a scream rose up. And that horrible, familiar sound of groans of the Risen.

Even this day couldn't help but be tainted by war.

"No....not here... Not again..."

The beautiful cobblestone paths filled with stalls and shops, all would be destroyed by the gaping maws of these Risen in mere hours. This world would become just like the one they left.

She heard them so clearly as if each person she had failed to save was before her again. The cries of those poor people, her mother, her father...

"They won't share that fate. Come, Noire. We must protect the townspeople at all costs."

She was shaken out of her horrified daze. The group of Risen was small, and mostly low-level units. Trainee mages and a few unskilled swordsman. Noire caught sight of one several paces away, a myrmidon. She fired off an arrow which instantly lodged itself within the Risen's neck. The Risen turned, boneless and formless towards her. As it began to charge towards her, flames erupted around it.

"And another!"

It ebbed into darkness.

A mage with a giant hat, much like Laurent's own. The Risen lifted its gloved hand, and began the incantation. Before the flames could consume her, Laurent blocked the shot with his own body, his cloak draped over her until she only the view of sparks and heat was all she saw.

She gripped her bow, stepped away from him and focused all her anger upon her bow. Just as if she were making a charm--except this talisman would be infused with vengeance, not good luck. How _dare_ the Risen destroy their peaceful day. How _dare_ they try and her the one she loved.

She let free arrow after arrow, and laughed as each Risen fell. Dark flames consumed their bodies. As she pulled another arrow from her quiver, she saw Laurent take out yet another--an ax wielder--with a single blow of his magic.

Finally, she came back to herself.

"Ahh...What a beautiful display of raw power," Laurent said.

"Laurent, are you hurt? I'm sorry I didn't ask earlier. She took over."

" _Hardly._ A low-level mage like that couldn't even scorch my cloak," Laurent said.

The last of them were turned to ash. Still, ever thorough, Laurent went back towards the town, and she followed along.

It was the traveling weapons shopkeeper, an ex-soldier who had gone the path of a merchant that greeted them. She'd seen him many a time. Though he was such a battle-worn, rough figure that Noire had been secretly grateful that she had never been tasked with interacting with him directly.

Noire stepped behind Laurent's cloak. After such a battle, she was far too worn down to speak with the townsfolk. Laurent seemed to sense this, and took the lead.

"Was the town breached by the Risen? If any were injured, I am skilled with staves and could heal them," Laurent said.

"No, thanks to you, none of them came."

A wizened old man came closer. Perhaps he was the town elder, or some leader of some sort. His tunic did seem to reflect that, showing a brocade designs that designated.

"Hail, traveler. We are eternally grateful that you have come to our aid."

"If I may, I advise you fortify the walls and form a battalion of able fighters. If that would take too much time, find sellswords until it can be formed. Though King Chrom's army has been through in eliminating the Risen menace, he cannot be everywhere at once. It was mere luck that we hadn't left for our encampment yet, and were able to destroy them before any true damage could be caused," Laurent said.

"I've been saying just that, but they never listen until it's at their doorstep. Now that the Risen has come to knock, maybe they will finally listen," the shopkeep said.

"I shall certainly hire them this very day," the older man said.

He held out a rough cloth bag. "You have our utmost gratitude. Though it is not much, please accept this gift of thanks."

After final exchanged pleasantries, they were back on the road. Noire peered inside the bag, to find gold and an elixir. King Chrom would be surely pleased with their new find. Laurent, too, must be pleased with this turn of events. Except, it meant Laurent's plans for the day had likely been completely torn asunder. He would have to recalculate everything, which would probably cause him much irritation. Would the chance to defend a town and get gold compensate for having to plan out everything again?

When she glanced at him, however, he looked contemplative. He smiled when he caught her gaze.

"Thank you for today, Noire. I know how much battles take a toll upon you. Yet you gave every ounce of beautiful strength you had within you. Because of you, the townspeople are safe."

"That's not fair, you helped too. Quite a lot. You defended me from that mage, and took many out. A-And you were the one who suggested they make fortifications and hire sellswords. I just kept quiet that whole time," Noire said.

Laurent smiled. "Yes, we make a wonderful team."

Noire glanced away.

"Noire, is something troubling you? Were you injured in the battle?"

"Actually, the truth is... sometimes I get so afraid that the world will turn into like the time we left."

"Hmm. Yes, that is a possibility that must be addressed. However, this time we are prepared, and King Chrom's army has only grown in power. We were not able to avert all deaths, but we have prevented sum and gone in much more prepared. I would estimate our chances of survival--and even defeating the fell dragon--have increased a whole fifty percent or more. And it will only increase the stronger we become, and the more allies and alliances we gain."

He continued on.

"We prevented calamity today, and with the town elder has promised to fortify their defenses. Which means likely we have prevented further destruction for this town. That is one more boon in our battle against the fell dragon and his forces."

"I only hope it's enough," Noire said.

But even as they walked home, something was swirling in her. Not simply fear, or alarm, but something from her other side. An untold determination, a new sense of purpose.

She could never have her true parents back, and their world could never truly be saved, only averted. But she could save Laurent, and she could have a happy life with him.

When they returned to the fort, she twisted together another talisman in a daze. He loved her, he thought she all of her was beautiful. Each time she repeated them, it was like a mantra, a ward. _Laurent loves me, and there's hope in the world. I can be happy. He loves me, despite it all. So I'll keep fighting very hard, even if it's hard. Even if I have to put every ounce of strength into it. I will. For him, and for me._

She put the full force of her feelings into the magic as she put in the core. She'd make as many as it took.

And she even put into each talisman the sliver of hope that one day they could defeat the fell dragon and live a normal life, or at least as close as anyone from a ruined time could. If only the battle were that easy, a talisman full of hopes and dreams hung on each horn of the fell dragon to change his mind.

But she had tasted the sweetness of fruit on a warm day, of kissed under the dappled shade, and love in all its gentle forms. For once, both sides of her were aligned in vengeance. She had all the fire of a ruined realm within her, and she'd shoot the eyes out of the fell dragon herself if that was was what it took to keep the one she loved safe.


End file.
